


Iron Queen

by Magdela



Category: Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Multi, New World (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane), Original Character(s), Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magdela/pseuds/Magdela
Summary: With every flutter of your eyes, you have the chance to descend into the darkness. You've taken this action many times to escape what is before you, to flee into what is sweeter than the present. However, when your main escape, and full-embodied virtual reality game called Yggdrasil, and all that you have connected to it is suddenly snatched from your grips, you are left with one chance to close your eyes. But when you open them, you find yourself in the very escape you fled to, but now imprisoned in it. There is no way for you to leave nor to ignore the present reality. You're placed in a New World, with your dearest, bone-headed friend, and dangerously loyal subordinates. It was finally your chance, and duty, to face what was before you and to make the best choices in these moments to rise past the discomforts and fears. You have everything at your disposal now: position, power, rank, and desire, but what will they, and this New World, do to you in the end?
Relationships: /OC - Relationship, Ainz Ooal Gown | Momonga & Original Character(s), Ainz Ooal Gown | Momonga & Reader, Ainz Ooal Gown | Momonga/Albedo, Ainz Ooal Gown | Momonga/Original Character(s), Demiurge (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane) & Original Female Character(s), Demiurge (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane)/Original Female Character(s), Demiurge (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane)/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 107





	1. With Eyes Closed

**Author's Note:**

> A small disclaimer.  
> I am a huge fan of the Overlord manga, anime, and its community here on Archive of Our Own. However, I am not a master of any of that. Due to that fact, some information presented in this fanfiction will be incorrect between the anime or manga. This maybe accident, therefore let me know, or purposeful due to creative freedom. My goal is not to perfectly replicate either the Overlord manga or anime, so I'm sorry if that's what you prefer. All characters and orginal scenes, you know which is which, belongs to Kugane Maruyama and his publishing company. All of my character and this here content are mine. Overall, I hope I can contribute to the Overlord Fanfiction community and continue to support this whole anime/manga as a whole. Now, please, enjoy.

The floorboards creaked while machinery clicked. It was a steady series that came with every turn and movement. It wasn't aggravating to the ears, nor was it annoying. The sounds simply came and continued as the motion of wheels, rimmed by metal but covered by soft tire, trailed across the room. The pattern of hushed abrasions on the floor and sighs from the mechanical came and eased with long strokes. Hands glided alongside the parallel wheels, pushing the entire device forward. The motions, like the movements, were clean and fluid. They pushed the low-raised chair from one room to the next. However, the actions soon stalled as it passed an entrance. A frail hand rose from the wheel and reached up. The slender finger curled over the smooth side of a wooden door before pushing it back behind her. The door gave its sound as it slid shut but mostly aided in gifting silence. 

With it closed, a numb wave entered the room. The voices from behind it, those that rang off the walls in the other room, were muted but still present. Words were inaudible, but the rising tones gave enough. The air rang with their vibrations while also weighing heavily on the one at the heart of it. She did not look back but rather pushed her body across the room. 

There were no obstacles or challenges, for the wood was flat beneath her and the straight path clear. The room was set bleedingly clear of where and where she couldn't go. From the door was a straight line. On either side, a low-ride carpet covered the right side of the floor along with the left. To the right was a flat bookshelf. It extended high to the ceiling, but all of its top layers were decorated with pleasant but unnecessary items. Aged stuff animals, distant, framed photos, and small jewelry boxes were some of the few. While it was sparse above the lower portions were stuff full of items. Various sized books were jammed between the cubbies, along with a series of colorful plastic rims and video games cases. Very few of the lower spaces were empty or boring in their collection. 

Across the room and to the left was a bed. It was simple in appearance. White, padded lines covered its low surface while pushy pillows covered the metal headboard behind. However, it was pressed directly against the front wall and was positioned uncomfortably close to the main door. While it didn't have much room between itself and the door, the bed did have space on its leftmost side between itself and another wall. That section gave a small path down the foot of the bed and into its left side, but ultimately it ended in an empty corner. Besides, the corner was a tall wardrobe. It stood as tall as the bookshelf, but it extended from heavy drawers below to two wooden doors. In the meantime, they were closed, hiding whatever style of clothing within. 

She didn't focus on any of these, but instead on what was in front of her. The chair rolled down the little isle, the metal giving its small clicks, and the voices hummed behind her. Both of these grew quiet as she neared the last item. A long desk sat off the center of the bed and stretched towards the bookshelf. No seat sat before it, as there was no need. Across its low surface were bulky items from small books, littered papers, and various machinery. A computer was set up, its screen open and dark with connected headphones beside it. Another monitor sat behind it. It had no connection besides wires looping and falling to the floor, where some larger blocks stacked upon themselves like a technologically advanced, brick wall. She could feel their fans blowing against the skin of her calves as she rolled forward. It was a mixture of heat and chill but was muted nonetheless. From the blinking lights to the faints hums, even these extensive (and expensive) pieces were nothing to the object of her attention. 

Front and center on the desk was a dark helmet. It carried a pattern on either side of neon stripes and followed with the theme a film green visor across the frontal head. It was not for any sports as, looks aside, the strange helmet had a long, thick cable extended from its very back. The cable was far different from the others, as it was thicker and had a metal coating across its entirety. It was not stiff exactly but wouldn't bend. The reason for that could clearly be seen from the constant lights flashing inside of its cannel, inputs being set back and forth from the helmet to the largest station below the desk. 

Her hand reached out to the piece, fingers skimming its top fondly, before tracing the smallest image upfront. Just where it would sit on the crest of her forehead was a minor inscription. Encircled and engraved, was the looping image of one, grand tree. It would almost resemble that of an oak or another great tree, but its sturdy and plentiful branches extended up without leaves. Rather, they tangled themselves with one another, one stem, one life, merged with another before joining the ever encompassing loop around the tree. Even the long roots merged with the loop, causing the tree to almost be inverted, twisted, between its top and bottom. It was clear that everything was connected, no matter how confusing. Something so dramatic for a videogame. 

Her hands turned on the item, lifting the helmet from the table before turning it and lowering it on her head. Her vision was quickly stolen from her, and the headset weighed heavily. She lost the sensation of her neck and what followed below. It was paralyzing, shocking, and sent her heart into quicker beats. Yet, the feeling was different than the still legs beneath her. This gave her senses; it gave her life; for now. 

Sighing, her fingers trailed across its smooth side. She felt the small lines and creases in its build before narrowing onto the cable into the back. She felt where it connected and sunk deeper in the headset. Upon it, however, was the smallest little switch, the difference between light and darkness for her. Tracing it over, her nail soon pressed down. "Let's go," she muttered faintly before her vision burned with white. 

Your lips parted with a sharp and heavy inhale. The air flooded past them and into the empty, but filling, cavity of your chest. The torso expanded before shrinking as the weight filled and grounded you. It flowed through your body, sinking into the length of your stomach and your limbs. Your long arms swayed and twitched, the tiniest details noticed, while your toes cringed below. Your vision glanced down to them: your standing, strong legs. They weren't all apparent. You could see the form of the silver sabatons curving over your toes in a slender point, but the metal disappeared as it connected to your ankles. From there down, starting at your waist, was the long length of a royal, blue skirt. It flowed from a clasp on your hips and elegantly down to brush against the metal. The garment was not plain, for even in its elegance, it still carried more. Upon the blue was the border of glimmering, silver thread. It gleamed like the sharp cut metal and looped in the fabric in a series of turns and angles. They were all interwoven with little blank space. Line after line, and row after row, the different runes covered the flowing garment. The same extended up to but as a second piece. 

The resistance-like dress changed from the long skirt, as mentioned, to a long, separate top. It parted up from the waist, middle a little middle break, and climbed up the torso and down the arms. The bodice and its sleeves would never be seen. As while the skirt covered your legs, your torso and arms were lined with the engraved plates of elegant, iron armor. It was built comfortably against your form, extending in long, thin pieces, while also giving way to the feminine. Your form was long and slender, but no means artless. Your skirt flowed straight, but it branched from the curve of your hips. Likewise, the armor stretched across the expanse of your stomach while arching over your bust. It dipped back down to close over your collars while connecting pieces curved to dress your narrow but sturdy shoulders. Pardons gave way to the lengths of your arms, where the armor greatly complicated between the beautiful, layered plates and useful mobility. Each singular piece was as lovely as the next; each carried their own engraving from scripted words to minor designs, and more subtle runes. From the metalworking to the actual armor, the entire set glowed under the lowest light. As it should, for you spent much time and consideration in making this set the highest quality armor you could, even though this was not the best. 

Beautifully the piece continued up to your neck without further cover. Instead of sallet, or helmet, your head was covered by a flowing veil. The material was not solid was a thin layering a black lace. It brushed across your features and decorated the scenes before you. You had no problem seeing out of it, causing it to be no hindrance to yourself. The item covered the very top of your head and even flowed down your back where layered of near silver-blonde hair would flow out. In the front, the veil was tucked into the crest of the armor. The merge created a sudden border between the metal clasped to your collars and the lace that drifted gently across your neck. The tuck caused it to dome around your features, but with the length following down back, it hung even. 

Your decorated hand, wrist, palm, and fingers lined with beautiful metal, lifted from your side. The motion was clean and swift with no weight, despite the armor over it. Your fingers curled back till just the gleaming pointer remained. You tapped in front of you, causing a quick light before a menu popped up. Plenty of accents lined its leftmost side and even more on the right, but you simply focused on the middle. A notification sat at the bottom. {Ayleth has logged on.} You rolled your eyes at that before glancing to the very bottom. What would be normal, blank space was now filled with a row of changing numbers. Plenty of zeros lined the first portion while a couple lasted towards the end. Yet, even those were changing. 

"Crap," you faintly muttered while watching the 00:15:56 turn to 00:15:54. Your finger swiped at the screen, quickly bringing up localized information. Region: Helheim. Area: Ainz Ooal Gown. Part: Great Tomb of Nazarick. Floor: 9th, Royal Suite. You frown, not that it would show, "come on." 

The information, along with a long map, was brushed away before a log suddenly appeared. Various names, strange or complex, were littered across your screen. Each one, to your sinking heart, was dark and grey. You scrolled down, the ache in your chest growing, and then at a faster rate through the 41 names. It was within the motion that you found one name green and alive: Momonga. You flipped back to the first screen and clicked near the bottom to the empty chat bar. Besides the first notification, there was no activity.   
You begin to type out a name before clicking the address and type out your actual message. 

|Momonga|:-Hey, where are you?- 

The message quickly sends through, giving life to the blank, black page. Another soon follows. 

{Momonga}:-Ayleth? I didn't think you'd be on! I'm heading towards the Throne Room.- 

Your stomach sank along with your heart as you received his message. Sighing, you typed out quickly: -Sorry, I just got home. I was busy. I'll meet you there.- 

The message sent quickly, and you were about to close the log before another popped up. 

{Momonga}: -Of course, you were. And, cool. Are you staying till shut-down?-

You could hear the disappointment in his tone and, followed by the last; you felt your own rising. Your stomach twisted with the sentence, and then to the setting around you. Typing quickly, you responded: -Of course.- Before flicking the page away. You pulled back up the map and quickly zoomed past the layers, as there were way too many, and flicked to Throne. 

The quickly blurred around you again. Instead of a flash of light, your body shifted through the darkness before clearing into a magnificent sight. Blackness bled away to reveal the grand stone. It curved below and around you in the splendid space with high rafters greater than the skies — it domed above you with clear air and a carefully crafted ceiling. Even in the depths of this tomb, light flittered through the top, past each pillar, and around you. The glow highlighted the beauty of the architecture, along with the mystery of its lurking shadows. All brought glory to the most wonderful of throne rooms. You stood rich in it, the art and work of those you knew. Their flags hung high on the right and left, each different than the one before it, but continued down in an organized structure. Despite it all, joy blossomed in your heart as you sat in the heart of what was home. 

Your eyes turned from above to before you. It was in the embrace of bittersweet nostalgia that you were jarred with change. Down the broad path, but before the steps of the single throne, was a series of NPCs. You recognized the eight easily, though, it was a bit laughable to see them, and only them, in a room so large. The first set was positioned close to the throne steps but not on them. Six women, maids, were lined up in their respected order. Yuri Alpha, Lupusregina Beta, Narberal Gamma, Solution Epsilon, CZ2I28 Delta, Entoma Vasilissa Zeta stood strong with their hands (armored, bare, covered, or otherwise) folded before their laps with faces solemn and torsos slightly bent. Each woman, from the eldest to the present youngest, were all a sight to behold. Each face was carefully creatures and crafted with beautiful looks that were complimented by their differing hairstyles, bodies, and uniforms. Despite the differences, the females carried one thing in common. All of them were battle-maids and stood in their high position of such. However, humorous the title was. You could understand the women, but their current leader was always entertaining to you. 

Leading the maids was nonother than an older man, a butler, named Sebas Tian. That space was entirely necessary. His character was carefully balanced to present the part of a gentleman. Despite his body being older, it was well built and tall with a fine suit that only reflected the mentioned base. His silvered hair was slightly unkempt, with some pieces hanging close to his face as he bowed. Likewise, thick facial hair covered his face, but it was well-groomed and tamed. He was thankfully nothing like his ironic counterpart. Although, despite being the leader of the Pleiades, he was not the highest-ranking NPC present. That title would go to the female before them and closest to the steps. 

Like the maids, she was a beautiful female. She had long, black locks, delicate features, and a lovely, but a little strange, white dress. Her form was a little more apparent than that of some of the Pleiades. For, her gown hung over her breasts, and off her bare shoulders, before flowing down her wide hips. These were not her most attractive assets, as she carried more demanding features. From behind, you could still spot the white horns, like that of a young bull, that curved around her otherwise delicate face. Their crookedness was her only imperfection. From below, an equally strange sight could be found. From the slender curve of her lumbar spine sprouted a pair of black wings. You still couldn't understand their location as the merging joints were weak compared to the length and width of the appendages. The wings blended far more prettily as extravagant decorations to that of her layered dress than for real flight. Not that it mattered. 

Unlike the maids, she was not bowing. She stood to the side of the thrown, her hands folded on her lap and eyes facing to the side. You knew why she stood stationary there as she was Nazarick's last defense: Albedo the Overseer of the Floor Guardians and resident of the 10th Floor, Throne Hall. Your eyes shifted from herself to the person upon the throne. He was the only real person here, despite being, well, not a person.

Your dear companion and guildmate, Momonga, was an intelligent, dedicated, and shy fellow. But, he was ultimately a great geek, for, his avatar was not that a True Vampire, Dragon-born, Royal Knight, or other species. No, he had decided to play a skeleton, an Elder-lich exactly. With the character, he was also a magic-caster, creating a strange but strong dynamic. His avatar was hulkingly tall with broad bones exposed beneath a gaping, ebony, and purple robe. The garment alone was luxurious in appearance, as the huge clothing hung off his form with an able girth and wide sleeves. The edges were lined with golden fabric, even upon the headwear, a small hood sat tiny between giant bone and gem pardons. You always did like that feature, however, so dramatic. A large, boney hand rested against the arm of the throne, while the second clutched an even more intense item. The staff of Ainz Ooal Gown was held sturdy by bone fingers. 

It was a long item with a twisting, gold staff like that of Yggdrasil iconic World Tree. The staff was crowned with a thick ring, each section holding a different colored jewel in the mouth of identical serpents. Its design was admirable, but the effort that it took the guild as a whole to make such a powerful, guild weapon was what always won your attention. It was only right for the guild weapon to be that of staff when the guild leader was a magic caster, himself. The arches and bands of gold, along with the various serpents, might as well be the physical manifestation of the guild members as one. It was at this sight that your heart broke to see Momonga carrying it alone. 

{Momonga}: -Hey, you made it!- A miniature speech bubble popped up above his head while his voice spilled through the room. 

Your avatar gave a short nod as you stepped past the last maid, disturbingly cute Entoma, and onto the steps. 

-Of course,- you repeated from earlier, -did you think I would leave suddenly?- The text bounced above your head while your voice crossed across the room. You stepped past Albedo's form, her golden and black slit eyes grazing your form as you passed their gaze, and moved to the right side of Momonga. 

His avatar seemed to shift slightly, no doubt him considering a motion, as you stood beside him while he remained sitting. His head turned to your taller form, even though unnecessary. The next speech was so close you could almost feel the words fall out of his unmoving jaws. 

{Momonga}-Hah, maybe.-   
A small, yellow-faced, sweating emoji popped up with his words.   
{Momonga}-Do you want to go to the Guild Hall?- 

Despite your unmoving avatar, you could feel your brows cringed. Was he really that uncomfortable to be here, or was he hoping others would come now? 

Your avatar's head turned to stare down the impressive hallways of the Throne hall.   
-No- the bubble popped up while your voice leaked through. -There isn't a lot of time left.- Your attention wandered along with the sights, the pillars, the chandeliers, and emblems brandished on flags.

{Monmonga}: -Oh, is there nothing else you want to do before shut down?- his voice broke through with a lace of uncertainty and caution. 

Beneath the electronic mask, your expression cringed. -No,- your voice answered. -I would have liked to see Dalila and Orion, but I'm glad to stand here with you.- You turned to look at him. -It's what friends are supposed to do, right?- You kept your voice positive towards the end. 

Monmonga grew quiet towards the end of his statement. His avatar stared back at you with nothing giving, so you squirmed lightly under the silence, despite not showing it. Eventually, a blank speech bubble appeared over ahead, showing he uttered into the mic, but it wasn't translatable. Words followed. 

{Monmonga}: -Yes, that's right.- 

His attention turned when you didn't respond. His hollow eyes glanced at the staff before looking at the stationary Albedo. His voice came a bit quieter than before. 

{Monmonga}: -Do you think Tabula would mind if I looked over her settings?- 

Your gaze turned to him. -Why would he? If it were me, I would want people to remember my creation in the last moments.-

Seemingly satisfied, the male reached out a hand to the female. Rather than touching her, his fingers fell short and simply "touched" the air. Like with yourself, a simple screen popped up with Albedo's name and title up top before pages of text followed. 

{Monmonga}: -So long!- his voice cut through with a gasp. 

After his remark, your laugh leaked through the mic. You glanced over Sebas, the maids, and the rest of the open hall. Despite his dramatics, you were glad he brought them in at least. It was wrong, so very wrong, for this giant hall to be empty. A building of age and strength to be forgotten, the hard work of your friends, guildmates, and yourself, simply gone by the will of an unrelated person. Your heart lurched in your chest while your eyes pinched closed. The sudden squeal only broke the engulfing blackness of Monmonga. Startled, you looked back at your friend. 

His skeleton head was cradled in his hand. Frowning, you leaned over his shoulder. -What did you do?- you curiously questioned while glancing at the very bottom of the character sheet. Your eyes catch the offending change. 

"She is deeply in love with Momonga." 

A full laugh fell from your lips. -You dog! So that's how you've felt all this time. Oh, my friend!- They kept falling from your lips. 

You could hear his embarrassment from the other side of the world.   
{Momonga}: -No, no, no! I was removing something! I couldn't leave her with what Taluba said!- 

Your avatar leaned over him. -And what was that?- 

Momonga stumbled upon his words, which were unforgiving-ly, caught by the mic, before answering. 

{Momonga}: -T-that, she was a ..promiscuous woman.- 

Beneath the mask you blinked and looked down at the exposed settings. Then you glanced at the mentioned female in front of you. You knew well enough that Tabula had spoken as her a sweet but confident woman with mother like skills. You supposed this was true her heteromorph, succubus, but still, weird character development as a whole. 

-Huh,- you muttered low before sitting stepping back as Momonga quickly closed his shame, the settings. -Well, good to you for changing it I guess?- 

He looked down. {Momonga}: -You don't think he would have minded?- 

Chuckling lightly, -No, he would have. But he's not here now, nor will he ever know.- 

Monmonga seemed to choke with your words but soon grew seldom as the clocked clicked down. 

{Monmonga}: -It was a good run, wasn't it?- 

You smiled beneath it all. -Yes, it was wonderful, Monmonga.- 

{Monmonga}: -We can play again, right? Somewhere else? I gave my email to TouchMe and Tabula. I can meet you somewhere, right? 

You laughed, but your voice choked beneath. -Obviously. Push comes to shove; you can track me down on the Yggdrasil discussion page. My username is the same.- 

He grew quiet before looking forward. His skeleton hand soon extended out before waving down with a command — | Bow Down|. 

Each NPC from the maids, to the butler, and Albedo knelt down on one knee with the matching arm crossing their chest. You took in sight, the last moments with these creations before wittily commenting to Momonga, -I hope you don't expect me to do the same.- 

The male struggled with a dramatic denial.   
{Monmonga}: -No of course not!- 

You chuckled faintly. -Goodbye my friend, and thank you for sharing this with me.- 

Your eyes pinched closed as that engulfing darkness swallowed you. You awaited in those dreaded seconds as the weight fell back on your form. Beneath, your skin heated, and sweat dripped. You felt it beneath the helmet as drops ran down your face. Your breathing hitched before you whimpered out so weakly. "Please, no, please don't take this from me." 

The cry broke across you and rung so closely in your ears. However, it wasn't so demanding as the following. 

"My lady? Lady Ayleth, what is wrong!"


	2. With Veiled Lashes

'I really hope they stopped yelling at this point.'  
The thought bounced across your consciousness as you kept your eyes pinched closed. 'The bills are expensive, but there's nothing we can do right now.' Your hand clutched at your side, a cold touch and sudden force behind it. You would have to go to sleep soon before getting up for another appointment. Then it was back to work. Sitting, still and stable, editing as that laptop weighed on your legs, sinking into your frozen flesh, like a stone through water. Its screen would glare up at your eyes till they bled. All while those same walls closed in around you. 

The image of the room blurred through your mind, its clean floors, and its organized structure. However, it was hallowed. Blank walls surrounded you with that door firmly shut. The pretty consoles and impressive gear were gone. The desk was left barren, clean, but empty. Your monitors would be black and systems dead. The center, your beloved Yggdrasil, had vanished along with it every connection tied to it. Hallow, empty, as the room you would sit and rot. A useless corpse, a waste of space, a meaningless name; that's all you were. 

Your chest heaved and broke, and you begged that the microphone wouldn't pick up your cries. That was if it was still online and if Momonga was still there. 

"Please, no, please don't take this from me." 

You expected the tears to sting, to collect around your eyes and border at the visor. It had happened before when you got too emotional over defeats by a boss or players, or when the lower pain suddenly flared up while playing. Usually, you would log out, pull the helmet off, clean the visor out, before tending to yourself. Once you calmed down, you would log in with an excuse, or some witty joke, for your questioning party. They would be known the wiser, and you could immerse yourself back in your fantasy. That was not what happened this time. 

Your eyes fluttered open, pale lashes cloaked with wetness, causing you to blink a moment after. You should have seen a puddle of engulfing black, but instead, the dark color was whisps around you. Delicate and beautiful it enwrapped your vision with close comfort. You could nearly make out the near-floral lace but struggled to understand what was past it. It was heavy, unmoving, but an atmosphere hung above. You almost thought it was the light, the beams that poured from above and flittered across the dark hall. It could have even been the shadows that stretched behind the tall pillars or around many of the chandeliers. But no, it was more substantial, more prominent, but intangible. It curved around the halls, crawled across the tile, and wrapped around yourself. The last was far closer. Whereas the first was like a distant shadow, this was like a body. It was a flowing sensation it clung to you. Like a lover's hands, it trailed down your arms, your back, and down your legs. More than any feeling, it was grounding. As it rolled across your skin, quiet as a whisper, you felt the real presence of a real substance on your flesh. 

Your arms were cold and faintly heavy. You curled your fingers, felt the muscles tense in your forearms, but did not feel the faint bit of nails pressing into your palm. The movement was restrained, pressure on the top of your fingers, and block between the tense digits and flat palms. A similar weight hung on your hips, with a faint motion it swayed while a small pinch clicked on your skin. The tight, but cold, sensation extended down your legs. It pressed into your knees, causing you to stand straight, and into your calves. Your feet faintly ached as the same coldness pressed in on either side. These were all secondary details as you focused on one fact. You were standing. You felt the weight press down into your soles, a faint twitch of a muscle in your legs. But more than a feeling, you saw it. With a glance down, you saw a blue flare of a fine skirt and the tips of metal peeking out beneath. 

"What is this?" a voice, silkenly low but soft, broke so faintly. 

"My lady? Lady Ayleth, what is wrong!" a second voice cried out. 

Those words, they had been asked before, in a different order or maybe broken apart, but all you could focus on was the voice. Sweet and feminine, it curled around your ears from faint confusion to rising concern. The emotions were easier enough to read, but what was challenging to progress what that it was there! That was not a voice you knew, not from any guild member, random player, or even housemate. That was a stranger, and she was directly in front of you. 

Your head snapped up as you looked before you. Through the lace, you could make out your surroundings better this time. You knew those stone, that roof, that hallway, and most importantly, those flags. You had been admiring them just a moment before now. They all appeared closer and clearer without a screen, menu, or single status bar interrupting the immersion. As hauntingly beautiful as it was, your stomach only sunk as you realized how wrong this was. Your gaze snapped as another motion drew your attention. 

A beautiful woman with jet black hair, soft features, but animal-like appendages stood close to you. You recognized the features quickly, but couldn't understand why those previously frozen, gold eyes were suddenly widening with rising concern. 

"Lady Ayleth," her sweet voice called as her gloved hand fell from its position on her bust to at her side. Her form stood up as she stepped, just a fraction, towards yourself. "Are you alright? Please tell me what was taken. I will receive it this instance!" 

You grew speechless as you watched her speak. You heard her voice rise and fall in various passions but couldn't comprehend the change. Your eyes flickered, looking behind her as you spotted more moment. The maids, Yuri Alpha, Lupusregina Beta, Narberal Gamma, Solution Epsilon, CZ2I28 Delta, Entoma Vasilissa Zeta, were all (minus one) looking up with wide eyes and animated faces. Their expressions, living expression, begun to shift from concern to confusion, to a darker look with Albedo's words. 

The butler, Sebas Tain, pressed up from his kneeling and into order. His form was stiff and strong, just like before, but suddenly bent with a hand on his chest. He stared up at you coldly with that single eye. "My lady," his rich voice begun, "is there a thief in the Tomb of Nararick?" 

With his question, each woman, from the maids behind, to the Overseer before him, darkened with terrible looks. You saw Albeldo's arms tremble at her sides, the pair of wings rustling faintly behind her before she exclaimed out. "Lady Ayleth, please inform us of this crime so we may hunt this worm down and disposal of its filthy being!" 

You blinked, faintly frightened by her sudden vision, but spoke calmly. "No, there is no thief." The voice, your voice, flowed past your lips with a delicate tone and sultry sound. It was undoubtedly a beautiful voice, as strange to say, and belonged to a woman of such. It was not yours at all. 

With the reassurance, the female stepped back. Her expression calmed and form transformed back to the delicate figure with her hands in her lap. You stared at her form, still struggling with the scene. Besides you, a faint rustling sounded. You turned your head to a different image. Close to yourself, a giant skeleton sat. You recognized his vintage quickly enough as it would take more for you to forget your companion's elaborate avatar. However, what disturbed you the unfamiliar, deep, and commanding voice that slipped out between his bare teeth. "The GM function is not working," he muttered faintly. 

The voice, along with the words, rocked you to your core. You struggled with the unknown tone, then with the implications of what your friend, what had to be Momonga, stated. The GM was a lifeline. If a player was struggling in the game, or if his system suddenly malfunctioned, he would, at the very least, be able to contact the administers to state a problem. If this basic control was not working, then how would you be able to log out?   
Were you even playing a game anymore? 

"I'm sorry, LordLord, but this GM magic you speak of is beyond my comprehension. I understand that my failure to serve you is unforgivable as a Floor guardian." Her hand fell against her chest as her tone rose in anguish. "I don't deserve it, but please, Lord, please forgive me!" 

The elder lich, Momonga, you struggled to admit, turned his head to the side of his throne. His resting hand suddenly let go of the grand staff within it. At the release, the item floated to the side, waiting at the throne but hovering patiently. His hollowed eyes stared at it a moment longer before a heavily ringed hand cradled the side of his face. It turned a moment later. 

"Sebas," his voice rolled with a command, "step out of the Tomb and confirm our surroundings." 

The man stood taller, his hand falling back to his side before responding, "It shall be done, my Lord." 

Momonga turned to the maids. "Pleiades, I want you on the 9th Floor. If there are any trespassers, deal with them." His last words hung in the air while the six females stood. You felt Yuri's cold stare on yourself before she responded to the guild leader. "As you wish, My Lord. It will be done." 

Her body turned as she finished speaking. Purposely or not, she followed out with Sebas's strides during her series of sisters followed her in that perfect line. Some of the girl's eyes strayed on yourself, but the looks didn't last long as they complied with their orders. Your eyes turned to Momonga's form quiet (despite the intense stare and fidgeting of the succubus near him) with a hand on his jaw bone. 

Your body tingled in the silence, and your limbs were suddenly heavier. Intense pressure flooded from the crest of your head to your sluggish feet. "Momonga-" you spoke out to him and took a step, no sound or clicks but actual movement towards his side. Your body didn't make it, as your body suddenly tumbled down. Your vision spun beneath the black lace from the blurred white of Momonga's face to black hair, and then to the ceiling above. You heard a feminine scream of your name but ignored it to focus on the oncoming pain. The bruising jolt, and immediate ache from your head to your arms, did not come; instead, a long and hard surface wrapped around your shoulders. It pulled you up before slipping behind your lower back. Your sight soon leveled back to the view of the hall's far walls, before narrowing as your lower body was suddenly lifted. A sense of ease flowed back down your limbs while your head lulled to look up. Swirls of black decorated masculine bone, and you could almost laugh at the occurring scene. Momonga, the shy, nerdy boy who roleplayed as a skeleton mage, was playing a knight. A deep part of you twitched in utter disgust at the notion of your role in this. 

"Albedo," he commanded her attention above, "excluding the Guardians of the 6th and 8th Floors, I want all of the Floor Guardians to gather at the 6th Floor's colosseum within the hour." 

The female stuttered between his command. You felt her inhuman gaze upon yourself with something strange within it, before she turned and looked to Momonga. "As you wish, My Lord," she replied before turning and stepping out like the NPC's before her. 

You heard, and almost felt, the grand sigh that left the male. His form stepped back, sitting down into the Throne of Kings, with you more or less cradled in his lap. Its solid, stone side, pressed against your back, but due to your armor, it was less painful and more uncomfortable. Your legs had turned, crossing over his lap before bending and hanging a pair beside his own. The bend brought a bit of stiffness behind your knees. It was as if too tight of boots were pressing into the skin. Still, even like with your mind tumbling and actual heart racing, you still recognized the look on that skeleton face. 

Those dim, red orbs peered down at you while the angled jaw parted lightly before pressing back closed with clenched teeth. "Ayleth, are you alright?" You could almost hear his whiny voice. 

Truthfully, your head still spun, and pulse raced. The list of sensations wasn't exactly new, as you had fainted many times before. But now, instead of cold sweats, weak limbs, and narrowing vision, you felt your skin burn. It was not by the heat nor like of pain, but rather like water was running back across your limbs. It flowed up from your very toes to the tips of your scalp. It wasn't a simple loop for the water, which you could almost call your blood, crossing your body in various patterns and strengths. If you paused, you could make out spaces from the sensation, but it was a river now. It gathered in your head, interfering with your racing thoughts, before stopping them altogether. 

We need to stay calm. 

The voice, the same that slipped past your lips moments before, now ran across your mind with startling clarify. It was strong, demanding as one before breaking into a flood of whispers. The same voice, with the same words, layered with that one statement. That turned into two, then three, and then endless more. The sea of whispers spoke the same, calling yourself to (ironically) calm down as they rolled beneath your skin. 

'What is this?' your mind near screamed. 

However, you did calm down. Feeling flooded back into your limbs as your heart slowed and mind settled. From one emotion to the next, you suddenly sat with perfect clarity and ease. Your eyes turned back to Momonga and his waiting form. He was growing more worried as you didn't respond. 

"Yes," you spoke evenly, "I'm fine." 

His body fell back with the back of his skull, hitting the chair.   
You sighed, the veil fluttering before you as you sat up, your form turned lightly before stepping forward. The motion was quick and brought you to your feet within the moment. At the feet of the throne, you paused. "Momonga, we're-" He cut you off. 

"I know," his voice rang through the room, edged and annoyed before his he sighed. "I don't know what, any, of this, is." his head leaned straightened before he stood up. Your avatar was by no means short, but his form towered over yours with those red, pricks of eyes aimed down. A faint shiver ran down your spine before disappearing. "But we'll start with what we do know." 

Beneath the veil, you frowned before looking down the hall. "The NPCs are responding as they are programmed to do." You muttered low. "It would be better if we could access their character settings to read what their personalities are." 

The male hummed behind you, a low vibrating sound as he looked forward. "We'll have to be careful. These Guardians were made to be the strength of Nararick, but they could very well be our downfall." 

Your blood hissed at the notion of betrayal. It brought a fury through your flesh but also a pulse of excitement. It would be interesting to see your friends' creations in action. However, this character was far stronger than yourself. They could tear through you in an instant, leave you weak and vulnerable. Even here, you were so pathetic. Your eyes pinched closed before your fist tightened the metal cringed under the force of your fist. 

Momonga stared down at the female as she stood silent. Her expression that of her strange but beautiful avatar was conflicted beneath the veil. The thin layer of lace protected even the image; it was still otherworldly to see emotions cross her countenance. Microphones only went so far, especially when she was known for being secretive. But now he stood next to her, his dear companion, whose brows cringed and fists curled. He didn't know how to help her act this time, not when he couldn't feel his own emotions. 

He hadn't expected her to respond the way that she had, but he also didn't understand why he, himself, was not reacting. His emotions were simple, dull like that of a reminder instead of a real experience. He couldn't bring his mind to focus on his present reality, as the matter wasn't solvable. He didn't have the answers to their current problem, nor could he receive them as of now. It would be a waste of time to meddle on the emotions rather than act in the ways that could. His mind told that was the later was more efficient; therefore, that was what he would do. 

His hand rose from his side before falling onto the female's shoulder. Her form dipped a little with the added weight, but not far given her armor. "Come on," he encouraged lowly, "Let's begin to head to the fighting arena." 

The female gave him a soft nod before frowning slightly. Her head turned up. "How are we supposed to do that? I'm not walking that far." 

The mage grew quiet before looking down at the one, red ring among his boney fingers. The female frowned more. "Really?" 

"It's worth an attempt!" the male protested, defending his assumption. 

You glanced down at your hand, the left, before sighing faintly. 'Don't let this be a waste of time,' you thought bitterly. 

It was within a moment that you felt your body shift. No darkness surrounded you; instead, your vision simply changed from the throne room to that of the arena. Momonga appeared beside you within a second. His body formed as faint, blue haze passed. It gave the faintest of sounds, which was the only notification of his arrival. Curious. 

The male stood stall with the Staf of Ainz Ooal Gowns in one hand before looking down at the other. "It worked," he muttered faintly. 

You frowned faintly before turning and glancing out the new hall. You could already see the massive sandpit that made of the heart of the arena along with the encircling, open dome that crafted its walls and seating area. One could make such a spectacle in the area. For, if you weren't so confident now, you would feel uneasy walking down the stone canal and stepping out from under the open arch open. This was supposed to be the place where warriors died. 

"Bukubukuchagama's creations Aura Bella Fiora and Mare Bello Fiore should be the Guardians of this floor," Momonga narrated quietly. "But, where are you?" 

As Momonga's eyes scanned around the arena, you took your time to glance as well. The colosseum was very spacious with many layers, within and out, crafting its appearance. You could easily wander between spaces of its layout and still have rows to see. Architecture aside, its leading beauty was its open roof. Unlike the majority of the tomb, the fighting arena was not dark or suffocating. Instead, the level allowed visitors to stare up into the sky. It was open with that rich and enlightened by starlight. For a presumed violent place, it indeed was beautiful and peaceful. That was, still, one small figure flew through the scene. 

You could hear the joyful laugh before the figure flew down from a high layer. Their form, which was quickly revealed to be a small child after landing, stood up straight from the dust before jogging over to Momonga and yourself. The first thing you noticed about the young, dark elf was her bright smile. It was almost nostalgic to see the lively character and even more as you heard her high-pitched voice. "Welcome to the 6th Floor amphitheater! We're honored to have you, Lady Ayleth and Lord Momonga." 

Momonga nodded to the girl before speaking before yourself. "We will only bother you for a little while." 

The elf stood back straight as she smiled up at the skeleton. "You must be kidding. You are the great ruler of The Tomb of Nararick. Your leadership is absolute! You could never be a bother any Floor Guardian, least of all my bother and I." 

She spoke sweetly but swiftly. The first words said are suppose to be the most honest. Therefore, by the way her green and blue eyes held the ominous vintage of the giant lich, you could only receive her comments as sincere. 

'Well, there's one and a half opinions down,' you thought faintly. 

"Speaking of which," Momonga lead, "where is your bother?" 

The female's expression flickered with surprise, her eyes widening and mouth parting before her body swiftly turned on the heel of her boots to shout behind her. "Mare!" her voice called across the pit, "quit being a coward and greet the Supreme Ones!" 

You could hear the meek voice answer back. "But sis, I'm scared." 

The she-elf huffed out her tanned cheeks, bent her short torso, before as she yelled, "Mare!"

The voice gave out a little cry before a small body, clumsily, jumped off one of the viewing tiers. The body stood up and brushed itself off, before trotting over to Momonga and yourself. The timid voice belonged to an equally meek male. He held his thin body close to the gnarled staff grasped in hand while he looked up at the skeleton's hulking form. 

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Lord Momonga," the little boy addressed the leader. 

Glancing between the two siblings, you couldn't help but laugh silently. Bukubukuchagama had created the pair as a dynamic duo. They shared many attributes, such as their dirty blonde hair, heterochromatic eyes, small and tanned bodies, and even their outfights. Yet, despite these, they were opposites. Aura, the elder sister, was a rambunctious tom-boy with messy locks and a permanent grin. Her eyes, green than blue, were always full of excitement. Upon her young body, she wore active trousers and a fitted, red-scaled top. With the outfit, she wore her sturdy boots (of which took many beatings) and a small, golden acorn pendant that hung on her chest. It was amazing that the jewelry would last on her, with her antics. Now it only rested at the crest of her white, but a gold-trimmed vest. She shared that garment with her bother, who, unlike herself, carried a dainty appearance. He was, in fact, in feminine clothes, as the Floor Guardian had been styled with knee-high boots that only stopped when a short, flared skirt fell in place before his matching vest would layover. Beneath the cover, he wore a blue, scaled shirt to pair with his sister's redone. It suited his quiet nature well, as did the short bob around his soft face. And while his sister had her necklace, he carried his staff. Blue then green eyes stared up sweetly at the two of you while a soft smile lined his lips. You truly believed that Bukubukuchagama only created this pair to give herself something so cute. 

Momonga waved off the boy's apology with a simple shrug. "It is fine. Now that both of you are here, I'd like to request your aid with something." 

The caster lifted the golden staff from his side up into the air. The two children immediately locked eyes on the epic weapon, their lips parted. "Wow," little Mare began, "is that the legendary weapon of the guild that only bends to your will, Lord Momonga?" 

Your eyes slid over to your guildmate while watching his antics. 

"It is indeed," he stated proudly, "It was created by blood and efforts of the guild's past members. It is a testimony of their labors, and the physical embodiment of our power, the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gowns," he finished dramatically. 

Your eyes skimmed over the features of the two Guardians. They were genuinely enchanted by the presence of the weapon and enticed by Momonga's words. In all honesty, it made sense for them to be impressed by the weapon. Due to its importance, the staff was rarely removed from its captivity. It would not be staff to wander around with the symbol of the guild. For, just like capturing the flag of an enemy base, breaking a guild's weapon would dissolve the guild. Therefore, the weapon was not brought out into the halls very often, causing very few guild members even to see the item, much less NPCs. However, if these characters could recognize the staff by name, how much else did they know? 

Your gaze rested on Momonga. 'Just what are you up to?' 

Momonga paused in the middle of his rant, coughing into his hand, before addressing the siblings again. "I would like the two of you to help me run some minor tests with it. Also, Aura I've called for the other Floor Guardians to assemble here. They should be here within the hour." 

Despite her previous excitement, the young elf suddenly whined with her long ears dropping just a tad. "Huh? Does that mean Shalltear will be here?" 

You chuckled faintly, causing the kids to look to you. "Yes, she will be, but you can play in the meanwhile." 

After a couple of minutes, and by the aid of two adult dragon-kins, two minor targets were set up on the field. They were pathetic things, just weak straw man, but they gave an aim. Momonga focused on the points, breathing out, he raised the staff up before calling out: [Summon: Primal Fire Elemental]! 

The red artifact within the staff suddenly beamed to life before the two straw men burst into flames. You felt your eyes dilate and breathing hitch. The same sensation, the running hands, flooded down your skin as the atmosphere changed. What was twin fires soon exploded in swirling winds. The arena began to turn and burn as the flames merged and grew into a massive explosion. With a great roar, an immediate figure emerged from the fire. The fire remained a crucial part of its lower body, but the upper portion resembled that of a stone dragon with a broad torso, wicked claws, and reptilian head. Its form hulked over the pit while its eyes burned with powerful embers. 

"This is the primal fire elemental. Its level is within the high 80s," he informed before turning to look at the two elves, "do you wish to fight it?" 

Aura immediately cried out with a loud "Yes!" While her brother turned, his gloved hands clenched tight on the staff as he attempted to worm his way past the large bodies of the dragon-kins. "U-um, I just remembered that I have some chores to complete," he tried weakly before his sister latched hold of his skinny arm with her hand. "Come on!" she cried out before lunging towards the impressive beast. You understood her enthusiasm. A part of you desired to run into it as well. 

You smiled faintly, as you watched the elves bounce around the beast. Mare stood back, casting spells, while Aura bounded through the air with her beast tamer whip slicing, ineffectively and effectively, through the creature. They were a perfect team, even in combat. The veil fluttered against your features while the skirt rustled below. Neither drew your attention away from the scene, as you muttered to Momonga, "It's incredible. I can feel the heat all the way here." 

The male hummed lightly as he, too, examined the scene. The summon was by no means weak, but the siblings were dealing with it well. They initiated the fight but quickly learned the beast's fighting technique and pattern, giving them the upper hand. This was a first-hand example of breathing, living, intelligence from the Floor Guardians. 

"I do not feel a temperature," he commented afterward, "but I do feel a force rolling off the scene." 

You hummed faintly, watching Aura jump across the scene with fantastic agility and speed. It was a good thing too because Bukubukuchagama would no doubt skin you if she heard that you were responsible for either one of her babies being injured. Joy, that woman was scary. But she wasn't here now.

Momonga's voice cut through your thoughts. "It seems magic works here as it did in Yggdrasil, even though it isn't as apparent." His gaze moved to you. "Do you want to try something?" 

You watched the powerful elemental rumble and roar as it received and returned blows from the twins. You could feel its force rip through the air, even if it was just a game to the elves. Your eyes pinched shut. "No," you replied. 

Momonga glanced away from his companion. His sight drifted above to the plenty of stars. Their beauty was undeniable, but his mind wasn't focused on that. He rose a hand before trying lightly [Messgae]. 

His hand fell a moment later, along with a loud sigh. Your eyes opened once more before you glanced at him. "Nothing?" you questioned. 

He shook his head, faintly, "No, I'm still unable to connect to the GMs." 

Your head fell lightly, unable to watch even as the elves fought the elemental. Momonga's gaze too begun to sink before it propped up a second later. A connection rang through his hearing, along with a familiar voice. "Sebas," he addressed quietly, which caused your gaze to shoot up. His head nodded a second time before speaking again, "I've ordered the Guardians to gather, come to the amphitheater on the 6th Floor, and report what you've found immediately." His head nodded again before his hand fell. That was honestly like watching someone speak on the phone-the same disconnected feeling, not knowing what the other side was saying. 

Your eyes were set on the male's skull. "You were able to speak with Sebas?" 

He nodded before responding character. "It seems the messaging system is not exclusive to only players but also NPCs now." 

You frowned faintly. "I think the reality is that we should stop calling them characters then." 

You felt his eyes weigh heavily upon you, but you did not expand upon your statement. The once blazing inferno in the middle of the arena soon burned out with a funnel of smoke. The twins watched their victory come with smiles on their faces and a faint ache within their bodies. With excitement, the pair, mostly Aura, ran back over to their masters. 

"Well done, you two did well," Momonga praised. 

"That was fun!" Aura exclaimed before wiping the back of her glove across her forehead. "I haven't exercised that much in a while." 

Her brother seemed to share her sentiments as he was breathing a bit heavier with faint marks of sweat streaking his round face. Momonga hummed lightly before commenting again. "You two much be thirsty." 

Curious to the remark, the siblings watched as their Lord and master extended a hand out before diving it into a sudden black void in the air. His skeleton disappeared, causing his robe's long sleeve to hang down, before appearing back with a glass pitcher of water. Two glass cups, naturally followed, before they were filled and handed to the children. The dark elves were left in awe at the kindness of their leader while Ayleth stared for a different reason. 

Her lips pressed into a faint pout while her brows cringed.   
'How is he able to do this so easily?' she mentally complained. Aura was first to voice her thoughts.

"I have to admit, Lord Momonga, I thought you would be scarier," she admitted after finishing her drink. Her brother nodded, wordlessly beside her. 

"Oh?" the male's low tone rose in something close to amusement before he added, "I can do that if you want me to." 

Your lips twitched at his humorous remark while a gentle weight rested in your heart. Despite the sudden change, he was still Momonga. 

"No way!" Aura protested, "I like you better this way. It's the best!" Her brother now really nodded beside herself. 

Momonga hummed faintly as if considering their remarks, before stepping lightly to the side. You were about to speak, to insert a joking comment against Momonga, which would hopefully embarrass himself and cause the children to laugh before another interrupted you. 

"My, my, it seems I am the first to arrive!" 

Your head turned at the announcement of a new voice. The tone was sweet and coy, but a part of it put you on edge. The owner of the voice, you founded, was quite similar to the description. It was a young girl short in stature, with honey-soft features, but with a strange appearance. The girl was dressed in an elaborate, early Victorian gown. The carefully crafted gown held true to her form while also holding modest. Tight sleeves held to her thin arms but bloomed at her shoulder. The dress held tight to her neck while also expanding with the swell of her dress. The gown fixed out at her small waist before balling dramatically past her hips. Various ruffled appeared in each area, but none more as the skirt descended into a beautiful ball shape. While these features were average for such a dress, what made her's so unique was its color. Silky ebonies and dark maroons were craftily balanced from her shell-like bonnet to the blouse, and down to the skirt. It was entirely gothic in appearance, something no true Victorian would wear and good conscious. But she was hardly average either. 

While her face appeared young and sweet, some features were hard to ignore. Her soft skin was far too pale without a hint of color or blush. Likewise, her hair, long silky locks that fell gently around her face and as a tail outside her bonnet, were pure silver. Ironically, what color she lacked in her skin and hair, her eyes made up for. For, those round orbs seemed to suck the color out of all they glanced at. Pure, crimson pools rested behind white lashed. Her gaze, like the rest of her expression, rested easily with a calm maturity. As she stepped from the black void behind her, you found that her pace was even and hold on the gothic parasol overhead relaxed. That last item would soon disappear as she finished her arrival before Momonga and yourself. 

"Oh wow!" her voice rose while her features colored in surprise, the faintest of a blush peach. She then broke the dignified walk into a girlish skip. "Lord Momonga! The one-man I could never rule above, my eternal beloved!" her voice rose into a faint pitch as her arms wrapped around his neck. 

You stared at the scene, eyebrows quickly rising while your lips parted faintly. 'What?' you muttered faintly. 'Her settings were not changed, nor was there any previous connection between herself and Momonga. Let's think, she Shalltear Bloodfallen, a True-Vampire and creation of Peroroncino. Oh, OH!-' 

Crimson eyes turned towards yourself as her head rested against Momonga's bone chest. "Lady Ayleth, and what a beauty you are!" A pale hand slipped from behind Momonga's craned neck, who you could practically see was sweating bullets, to reach out to you. "A maiden of iron, but like a mourning bride beneath that veil." 

'Pardon?' your mind paused, 'Was that supposed to be complimentary?' 

Aura's voice begun from behind. "Stop Shalltear; you're beginning to drool on them!"

Her attention turned from the pair of you, which you were frankly grateful for, to fall on that of Aura. She quickly turned and snapped at the young elf, who then ignored her, with words you didn't bother to listen to. You knew their bickering well enough, having been a friend of the sweet (but frightening) Bukubukuchagama. You always recognized the fondness she and her brother, Peroroncino, shared for one another, but their constant brawls (which were loud in everyone's headsets) made you glad at your lack of a sibling. A commanding, but gravely, voice commanded out at the scene. "Stop this nonsense. You are acting like children before the Supreme Ones!" You recognized the character well enough but did not glance at him. Rather, while Momonga corrected the scene, your sight drifted off to the far side. New movement had entered the colosseum. From the far left side entered an intimidating pair. 

You recognized Albedo's form quickly but paused at the male at her side. He was far taller than her, you realized, with broad shoulders, a tapered torso, and long limbs. Each feature was accented by the clothes he wore. A well-made suit clung to his form. Its front descended with a double breast feature on the swell of his chest. The garment ended with at a pinned by his side. While it held close to his form, a white dress shirt laid flat below with its broad collar arched out from either side of his throat. A red tie laid between the first layer and the outer jacket. Black shoes and leather-gloved poked out from the ends of his jacket and pants. They were minor details but still as fine as the rest. The only feature of himself that laid bare would be that of his face. 

Strong but impish features made up his face. He had a narrow jaw but a strong side to his face. Likewise, long, pierced ears extended out of his head. They were a catching detail as his layered, dark hair was combed strictly back. Down his face rested a strong, slender nose, while his eyes, framed by strong eyebrows, were hidden by round glasses. His thin lips seemed to twitch a little as he walked, curved with the faintest of smiles. That look, along with the fine suit, really did suit him the best. He struck you as someone intelligent but cunning. You could place his posture on any high-end banker, or, no, a lawyer. Yes, a blood-sucking lawyer suited him the best, as his true nature swayed behind him in the form of iron case, insect-like, tail. The frightening appendage was layered with thick plates and only ended in prong with six, long spikes. You felt your body tense and fingers faintly twitch as he neared. He was Demiurge, Ulbert Alain Odle's creation.

"I apologize. I hope we did not keep you all waiting long," his voice, low and coiled, commented as himself and Albedo neared the gathering. 

Your gaze turned from (him) the pair to glance at the new arrival. While Demiurge, Albedo, and even Shalltear, were more human-like if you tilted your head, squinted your eyes, and pretended to ignore the obvious, the next Guardian was far bolder. 

The creature soon at a massive height and even wider width with his broad, but athletic-like, build being made not by muscle, insectoid plates. Classic armor pieces covered some of his body. Blue, plated pauldrons rested on either one of his shoulders while similar vambraces were clasped around his four arms. Due to his nature, there wasn't a true difference between the mentioned armor and his natural exoskeleton. The creature, Cocytus, was built like a fortress, with tough elements part of the domain. Rather than wings, two, absurd glaciers jetted out from his wide shoulder blades. Likewise, a similar, ice-like tail extended from his lower lumbar but only thickened as it extended out. More icicles extended from the solid limb like spikes, but they seemed less purposeful than a certain male. A swing from that appendage alone would no doubt be a crucial blow. That was without even mentioning his claw-like hands, raptor-like feet, and oversized manuals that could easily take your head. The last truly did make narrowed head seem small, despite it being, more or less, proportional. With all of these features, the tall, iron halberd he carried truly was just for show. 

But at the same time, while he carried all of these descriptions and certainly filled them out with his strong stance and focused gaze, he seemed the most gentle out of the guardians. This was not to be confused with soft, but rather calm, collected, and intelligent. He was not a rabid beast but a strong warrior that stood with more honor and dignity than most in the room. You truthfully desired to hand closer to him than the darker male who had paused leftmost side, the angle closest to yourself. 

All the Guardians settled in the informal order; Albedo stepped forward with her gaze directed towards your companion. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she seemed to prepare herself for the next. 

The gold eyes opened, "My Lord, we the Guardians pledge our fidelity." 

Shalltear, the first to arrive but not present, stepped forward. Her delicate hands lifted up the long trail of her skirt as she moved forward. "I am Shalltear, Floor Guardian of the 1st, 2cd, and 3rd Floors," her form bent forward as her hand gracefully crossed her chest. She finished the last with pride as her crimson eyes settled on the two of you, "I serve and obey." 

The insectoid stepped forward, his steps along with the planting of the halberd, created a loud 'stomp' in the air. Yet even these admittances were nothing compared to his graveled, booming voice. "The Guardian of the 5th Floor, Cocytus," his form bent straight down with his head lowering with, "I serve and obey." His knee hit the ground with a faint impact before a billow of frosted steam poured from his nasal pits. 

Aura, smiling but collected, moved next to Cocytus's stationary form. "I am the Guardian of the 6th Floor, Aura Bella Fiora." Mare followed his sister lead before commenting, rather strongly, "I am her brother, and the second Guardian of the 6th Floor, Mare Bello Fiore." They knelt together in unison before speaking, "We serve and obey!" 

The presumed gentleman stepped forward; his eyes settled on the scene before he began a calculated moment afterward. "The Guardian of the 7th Floor," he introduced with an inflamed chest before kneeling down like the others, "I serve and obey." 

Albedo cut in a moment afterward, her voice regal and collected, "The leader of the Guardians, Albedo." Her horned head bent forward as even she descended to a knee, "I serve and obey!" she announced while her black wings expanded out on either side. 

Her eyes lifted a moment later. "Excluding Victim, Guardian of the 8th Floor, and Gargantua, Guardian of the 4th Floor, all of the Guardians present themselves before the masters and pledge their undying loyalties." 

The gold eyes rested on Momonga's countenance while she spoke in plural, "Supreme ones, we await your orders. If you only ask it of us, then it shall be done!" 

Surprisingly, Momonga spoke out besides yourself, "Raise your heads." His gaze, the dim red lights, had sunken back into his head while a murky shadow overcast his form. You hadn't noticed at first but now could detect the faint aura off his bones. 

'It seems passive stats still work,' you considered silently. 

"I am very pleased that all of you have come," he said soberly. 

The Guardian's paused with his words; all looked up. Albedo answered, "Your joy is wasted on us. We are but your humble servants and live to serve you, Lord. My only fear is that our abilities may not live up to your expectations. Nevertheless, we will strive to meet them in honor of the lost Supreme Beings, our blessed creators."

Your eyes turned on the people. 'Lost?' you questioned faintly. That would mean that not only do they recognize ourselves but remember the other players. 'Just how far did their memory extend?' 

Her hand crossed back over her chest before she announced allowed, "This we vow!" 

The other Guardians echoed her words. 

Momonga's arms swung from his side, while his jaws fell wide open. "Most excellent, my Guardians, I, and Ayleth, do not doubt that you will fulfill in your duties without fail!" 

The group suddenly smiled, their head poking up as they stared up at the two of you, pleased. 

'That's a sudden transformation.' 

"Now then," Momonga began while commanding their attention, "As of now, the location of the Great Tomb of Nararick is entirely unknown to us. Because of this, I've ordered Sebas to survey the surrounding areas." The skeleton's head then turned to glance off to the side. You didn't need to glance to spot the sudden arrival of the butler. 

The man stepped forward with long strides before bowing down before Momonga. His next comment surprised both you and your companion. 

"Grasslands?" Momonga questioned. 

"Yes, Lord, I'm afraid that the swamps that once surrounded the Great Tomb of Nararick have now vanished. More, I could not confirm a single building, human or heteromorph, within one kilometer of our area." 

Momonga stared to the side, "It would seem that we have been transported." 

You frowned faintly, your arms crossing on your armored chest before you considered the change. The swamps were part of the landscape of the dungeon. It was never a pleasant future you enjoyed, but it suited the guild's monster theme and functioned as a basic border. That swamp worked as a weakening adjective against intruders with low-level poison and negative damage. 

"We're vulnerable out in the open and lack our first defense," your voice commented quietly. 

Sebas's eyes sat on yourself while the Guardians stared at you as they spoke. Their own expression turned with understanding, some quicker than others. 

Momonga nodded faintly. "Correct. Overall, it seems that the tomb has been transported to an unknown land by equally mysterious forces." And ourselves along with it, you could hear him note. "Overseer Albedo and Defensive leader Demiurge, I have a task for you both." 

The two demons looked up. 

"Fortify our defensives and work on the way to strengthen our information gathering. The rest, follow their commands!" Momonga ordered before glancing at the youngest. The young boy's eyes widened at the call. 

"Mare, is there any way for us to conceal Nararick's walls?" 

His head inclined, "Yes, but it would be difficult and trying if all we used was magic. We could try covering the walls with earth and vegetarian; I believe we could camouflage into the surrounding area." 

A dark voice rung from the front. "You want to smear the glorious halls of the Great Tomb of Nararick with filth?" Albedo threatened as her head tilted down. Her raven hair shadowed her face. 

You did not like how Mare shrunk behind her. Your brows cringed beneath the veil before your voice rung out. "Albedo," your voice rung in command, "do not interrupt another with useless complaints." 

She glanced up at him, golden eyes wide before her head tilted. "Yes, forgive me, my lady," she responded in a far sweeter tone. 

You felt Momonga's eyes upon yourself, quiet, before continuing with the elf. "Are you confident that the dirt will be enough, Mare?" 

The boy looked up, "Yes, I am, as long as you allow it, of course," he added with his gaze flicking to the Overseer. "Only," his tone trailed. 

You nodded before Momonga agreed, "Right, one giant mound would look unnatural in the plains." 

Your head turned to the nearby butler, "Are there any small hills in the area?" 

The man replied quickly but collected, "No, the area is completely barren." 

Momonga waved off the concern. "The land can be molded to suit our needs. Would creating dummy hills aid?" 

The elder hand lowered his head, "Yes, I believe that it would." 

"Excellent," the guild leader's voice rung out, "then that is what we shall do. Afterward, we can dress the open area with illusion magic." 

Mare responded to his order, "Of course, Lord, it will be done." 

The skeleton's head nodded before pausing. "Lastly, there is a question I would like to ask each of you," he began.

Your head tilted to your head. 'What are you doing?' you questioned again. 

His form only turned from yours before he looked down on the True Vampire, "First Shalltear, tell what kind of person I, and Layleth," he added quickly, "are to you." 

The vampire didn't hesitate. Her cheeks colored with the same, pale peach. "Beauty incarnate, nothing living or undead or compare to your masculine glow, while Lady Ayleth is such a fair maiden!" 

'I really wish she would stop saying that word that way.' 

"Cocytus!" Momonga announced. 

The giant insectoid shifted with a faint groan before answering. "A man who's strength is unrivaled any Guardian, and Lady Ayleth, a fierce competitor with skilled martial arts. You, Lord Momonga, are truly worthy of ruling the Great Tomb of Nasarick with Lady Ayleth at your side." 

Momonga hummed faintly before continuing, "Aura." 

The girl looked up with a wide grin, "Compassionate, and you're always three steps ahead of the game! Lady Ayleth is gentle but observant." 

"Mare." 

The little boy's ears tilted down as he responded with a timid smile, "Your a leader who is kind as well as merciful, and Lady Ayleth is the same." 

Momonga nodded before his gaze turned to the waiting demon. "Demiurge," he called. 

The man's head turned up before meeting Momonga's eyes as he began to speak. "A man who makes wise decisions and acts upon them efficiently without any hesitation," his voice came out pleased as he brought up the most important details. He carried on: "Also, enigmatic nature makes it near impossible to predict you." Those covered eyes turned to your form, and as heavyweight settled on your shoulders, "Lady Ayleth is a similar being with the same dignity and prestige of a Supreme Being. She considers her actions carefully but follows through with them swiftly and without cowardice. Likewise, she is a female that intrigued my own creator, Ulbert Alain Odle, with the elevated title: The Iron Queen." 

Beneath the veil, your eyes widened. Ulbert had always been a pain to while playing. He had mercilessly made fun of your character as "a girl pretending to be a high-class lady." Likewise, the man was downright creepy with his insistent role play of that ungodly goat character. When you refused to reply to his game, he simply sighed and commented that "you should have been the angel." Enough to say, while he was a friend, you didn't like the man and his strange obsessions. Even then, he and Momonga were one the few that helped you learn how to play Yggdrasil.

Momonga hummed low before turning to the eldest male, "Sebas." 

The butler's eye had closed as he considered his words before speaking. He addressed Momonga first, "You are the head of all the Supreme Beings, and even though the other creators left us, you remained in the Tomb of Nararick till the end. Lady Ayleth has gone the same, proving herself to be of the nature of a leader." 

Despite the praise, you sighed a little out as you listened to Sebas. You knew his words were not vindictive, but entirely truthful, but was that what he thought? Your eyes turned to the rest of the waiting Guardians. 'Do you all think they abandoned you?' 

"Lastly," Momonga stated, "Albedo." 

The succubus's cheeks colored, and eyes softened. She began calmly, "Lady Ayleth is a fine woman in both her feminine nature and as a warrior. I look up to her with those traits as my Supreme Being," but then her tone turned, "Lord Momonga, you are the highest of the Supreme Beings, our ultimate master, and the ruler of Nararick, as well as the man I love!" 

You choked alongside Momonga. "Ah, yes, I see," he returned before standing straighter, "I have heard your responses and given you your orders. Go work faithfully in my name!" The male then activated his teleportation. 

'Runaway,' you mused before doing the same. 

Back on the 6th Floor, the Floor Guardians soon pressed themselves back up after the absence of the Supreme beings. Albedo was the first to do so, but Mare was the first to speak. The young boy clung to his staff, "That was so frightening." His sister stood up with him and muttered in, joyful, agreement, "Seriously! I thought that the pressure was going to crush us!" 

The large insectoid pushed his massive body up before contemplating, "To think the Supreme Beings would be this amazing." 

Albedo clasped her hands to her full chest, smiling heavenly. "When he shows his true power and authority, he is even more glorious than I imagined!" 

Demiurge soon pressed himself up before a gloved hand rose to press against his glasses. "Indeed," he commented simply while thinking back to the image of the two. Momonga was certainly a leader, finding issues and addressing them, but Ayleth was not silent at his side. She followed the conversation the same, while even adding suggestions and other balanced input. She was interesting. 

Cocytus tilted his head down as his sets of blue eyes stared down. "He seemed pleased by a vow of fidelity. I hope that is the case," he added thoughtfully. 

Aura perked up before adding, "He acted completely different while we were alone. In fact, he was super kind and gentle. He gave us water because he thought we looked thirsty. Though, Lady Ayleth seemed quiet," her tone trailed off. 

Her brother nodded before giving a faint smile, "It just shows he's a true leader through and through!"

In front, Albedo latched onto the words. Her expression brightened before her body turned. "It's just as you say, Mare!" she exclaimed. "He's just incredible, wasn't he? He sensed our feelings and acted in accordance with them, just as an absolute ruler should. Of the 41 Supreme Beings, he stands on top! And when the other rulers left us, he mercifully stayed behind with Lady Ayleth." 

Sebas looked past the scene before commenting, "If there is nothing more, I will be returning to my post." His gaze was directed down, "I do not know where Lord Momonga or Lady Ayleth have gone in the tomb, but where ever they are, I should remain close to their sides." 

The overseer looked down on her subordinate before nodding, "Very well, if anything occurs, please inform me immediately." Her expression begun to color, "Especially, if Lord Momonga calls for me personally. I will rush to her side, no matter what!" 

Her golden eyes had widened considerably while her tone considered to rise, "But if he calls for me in his bedchambers, I will need time to prepare! I would need to bathe first, but if he wanted me to go without bathing-" 

Demiurge pressed a finger against his forehead before Sebas cut it in. "You've had yourself clear. Now, if you all would excuse me, I must take my leave," the man then bowed before stepping out of the arena. 

The motion was just in time, as across the aisle, the only Guardian left kneeling, the True Vampire, was currently whimpering and shaking. Demiurge looked over at the female before questioning, "Are you alright, Shalltear?" 

Cocytus followed his concern by asking, "Are you hurt, ill?" 

The pretty female-only rose her head, a fierce blush across her otherwise white features. "Oh, I am fantastic," she sang out before continuing. "The scene was so much; I got overstimulated." 

A rabid cry broke from the front, "Disgusting wrench!" 

"What?" Shalltear pushed herself up while her wide, crimson eyes pinched and narrowed. "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy the gift he shared with us. He just exposed a small extent of his power." Her body language changed with her hands spread like claws and fangs grinding, "If something like that doesn't excite you, then you must be rotting beneath that skirt!" 

Albedo snapped back, "You filthy parasite!" 

"Right," Demiurge began before stepping back from the ascending scene, "Aura, I'll let you deal with the woman issue." 

The female shot a look at the older male, "Woah, no way! You can't dump this on me!" 

The demon waved his hand before stepping away. "If it starts to get bloody, I'll intervene," he reassured. Mare looked over at his sister before trotting off behind the 6th Floor Guardian. 

"Goodness," Cocytus complained as he passed, "Is this really something worth arguing over?" 

Demiurge turned from the outer rim to glance back at the brattling females. "They're bickering aside; I would be interested in seeing the result of just a union." 

Mare looked up at the man, "What do you mean?"

The male continued with his arms linked behind his torso as he considered his words, "It would be a great addition to our forces, and would bestow a future upon Nararick." 

The elf tilted his head, "I don't think I follow you." 

Sighing in disappointment, the taller Guardian looked back to the brawl. "Every great ruler needs an heir, don't they? Lord Momonga and Lady Ayleth stayed till the end, but even they may desire to leave and join the Supreme Beings. Therefore, it would be good if he left an heir for us to pledge our loyalty to, simple?" 

Mare stuttered, "Um, are you saying one of them," he motioned to the two, female Floor Guardians, "could give birth to Momonga's heir?" 

The insectoid huffed from behind the pair, "Blasphemy!" he exclaimed, "If we fulfill our duties, then that won't be necessary." 

"Yes, yes," conceded before continuing, "But instead of serving one leader, imagine pledging ourselves to his line." 

Cocytus relaxed slightly before beginning to comment, "Oh, that would be nice. Oh, that would be wonderful!" His body turned as he began to daydream. 

Sighing, Demiurge paused before calling out, "Cocytus, please come back to reality." 

The large warrior stepped back, cradling his turned head in one hand while sighing, "What a wonderful image. That is a future to hope for." 

The demon's lips twitched, "I'm pleased that you're happy." His head turned, looking back to the middle ground. "Aura, is the situation handled over there?" 

The young elf was currently walking over the males, her arms crossed behind her head, "Yeah, the catfight is over, but now they are speaking nonsense!" 

The vampire turned and sent a look to Aura. "We are deciding," she bit, "who Momonga's head wife will be." 

Albedo sighed back as she began to inform the rest of the Guardians of her revelations. "Obviously, a powerful man like Momonga would not have just one wife, but rather a harem. But only one of us would be his official wife." 

Aura tilted her head to the side, before commenting (stupidly), "wouldn't that fall to Lady Ayleth?" 

The Overseer felt her body weaken, and eyes widened. The words rattled through her mind before settling heavily on her chest. The feeling began to sink through her body before turning in her stomach. Her throat clenched before she unprofessionally admitted out, "What?" 

Demiurge's sharp features cringed before he spoke carefully, "Lady Ayleth is a Supreme Being herself, so it would be more natural for them to be together." His head tilted down while a glint sharped off his glasses, "They are also very well suited. Both are magic casters with Lady Ayleth being a Sorceress. Moreover, Lady Ayleth was not known to socialize with other Supreme Beings besides Lord Momonga, Lord Ulbert, and Lady Bukubukuchagama." 

The words, along with the mention of the Supreme Being's race, hung heavily in the air. Albedo grew silent. Her hands clasped tightly together in her lap as she stared down. She recalled the, painfully, image from before. As Lady Ayleth collapsed, Momonga had stood up from his throne. When her body swayed, his arms wrapped around her and pulled her up to his chest. Much like a bride, her veiled head leaned back while he stared down at her form with concern. That very look in his sockets paired with the way he so carefully held her was enough to tear Albedo from the inside out. She hated it. 

With a sigh, her head rose. "If Lord Momonga desired Lady Ayleth as his wife, or if Lady Ayleth took him as her husband," her tone trailed before finishing strongly. "Then, I would be honored to call her my sister." 

Demiurge looked over the female before speaking lowly as if gauging a retraction. "And if you were wrong, if Lord Momonga desired only Lady Ayleth?" 

The breath broke in her throat before it constricted. Her vision sparked with black before settling in a haze. "That's not possible," she whispered. 

Shalltear, who had been pouting from the side, decided to speak up. "This is all on the assumption that Lady Ayleth desires Lord Momonga," the female paused before continuing in a rising tone, "Not that any woman could resist the beauty that is Lord Momonga's ivory body!" Her voice jumped before adding calmy, "But Lady Ayleth may desire husbands of her own, or others," she finished with a giggle. 

Each Guardian seemed to consider her words, surprisingly seriously, before Demiurge broke the atmosphere. "Nevertheless, we should focus on the orders our master has already given us." He pressed the glasses back up his face. "Now, Albedo, your role," he called out. The leader looked up from the ground. Her eyes widened before her expression eased, "Right, now we begin planning."


	3. With Burning Vision

Metal, with its bright gleam and fine edges, sparked before your vision. With a simple pull, the weapon was harassed in a firm grip and cut through the air. The image was rather attractive, a large and robust hand gripping tight on bound leather. The item shifted, waiting for a command, while the series of rings on the wielder's hand sparked with rich glee. It would have been a pleasant scene if it wasn't of your incompetent companion. 

You sat back in the room, the private chambers of the Royal Suite on the 9th Floor of the Great Tomb of Nazarick. Both of you, Momonga and yourself, had quickly decided to move into his room. Being the guild master, Momonga's suite was far more extensive than the others. Entering the suite, one would find themselves facing a simple lounge area. A couple of tall, mahogany cabinets framed its wall, while a grand chandelier hung above. Smaller pieces of furniture decorated the room before the room transitioned the entrance to the personal study. It was behind closed doors, but you knew to be the most well-dressed part of the room. Past the study was the bedroom, grand as it was, that would loop back to a master bath, which would lead to lounge. The design was spacious, as with each suite, but the basic layout did not waste any area. Plenty of attractions could be placed in the room. WIth your own, you had focused on a resistance theme with a heavily decorated lounge, something seen with formal meetings but also with room for tea, a minor study, but with a large room. You had furnished your walls with fine pieces, such as stationary, but useless, weapons and arms, real stitched tapestry, and an elaborate wardrobe. The last had started as a joke between Ulbert and yourself, him picking on you for never settling on a piece of armor. However, it had quickly grown due to your enjoyment with it. It was a room fit for a lady, while Momonga's, was not. 

His suite lacked much of the personality that others did. He didn't spend time decorating it, or even placing what he would call "unnecessary" items. He had his inventory box, so he didn't need a wardrobe, chests, or weapon cases. The workaholic had only focused on his study. It was something you were sure he'd reject now. 

His arm turned to swing the sword, but the item fell through his grip. It clattered against the carpeted floor with a descending racket. You scoffed before pushing yourself off your current lean and stepped over. "That's ridiculous," you commented while bending over to pick up the item. Out of the corner of the veil, you spotted the maid, Narberal Gamma, step forward before freezing. Turning, you stood back up with the blade balanced in your hand. Your iron fingers curled around the slim hilt. It was a bit uncomfortable in your hold, a bit too long or unbalanced in weight, but you simply turned the item. Your fingers curled over it before you swung the blade down to your side. Your wist turned backward while the edge pointed straight down. Humming, you lifted the sword before handing it to Momonga. "My class is low in warrior, but I have enough to wield a broadsword. You, however," you commented while dropping the hilt of the sword in his waiting hand, "do not." 

His red orbs glanced between the weapon and yourself before humming faintly. The item was placed back into the box it sat in, a useless weapon for a mage. "It's the same as Yggdrasil," he commented faintly. His boney hands stretched out in front of him before his torso turned. He glanced behind himself and stared at his reflection within a long, standing mirror. You saw those red orbs scan over their features while you stood still silently. Your form was tilted slightly, with an arch in your hip and a hand resting on your skirt. Position aside, you couldn't see any of your own features. The veil was safely tucked into the crest of your breastplate and masked all beneath it. It was an entirely gothic image, one you didn't know how to translate. Yet, Momonga, a guy man now trapped in the body of a literal skeleton, must have felt more conflicted. 

You turned lightly towards him, your planted hand lowering to your side before twitching to reach out to him. The male acted quicker, with his body turning back around. "I want to try something," he said before looking back down at his arm. After a moment, he spoke again "[Create Greater Armor]!" 

Power surged through his voice, which soon manifested into being. Across his favorite robes and down his exposed features beamed a blue light. It consumed himself before dying back down that was replaced with a different glow. Black and gold-rimmed armor stretched across his body. Hallow bone was replaced with a solid form with a crimson cape to top it off. Your head tilted at the new image before muttering, "That doesn't look bad." 

Your companion scoffed before reaching back over to the bin. He returned his grip on the sword. The hold was instantly stronger, more, as he actually swung the blade with a low grunt. Your head tilted, "So it works." 

The placed the sword back before turning towards the entrance. "Yes, I can use the weapon with the right stats," his eyes turned to yourself, "you could even practice your magic." 

Beneath the veil, your nose cringed, and lips turned. However, you only shrugged for him. "I have my fair share of spells, but I cast away the mage role when I changed my class from Witch to Socoress." 

Witches, they were ugly beasts in Yggdrasil. Usually, the witch mob tended to be horrible crones with low-level spells that only grew stronger by the number of familiars they gained. With racial levels in the class {Entrancess}, you were able to focus on that familiar magic and illusion technics, but it limited your range for elemental and other offensive magic. The class became so restrictive as a mage character; you switched over your Job Levels to that numerous fighter classes. It resulted in your character, a near magic exclusive race, specialize in close combat. However, you still made it to the level of Sorceress. Momonga caught the humor. 

"Ironically so," he commented before turning to the maid.   
"Narberal," he called, "I'm heading outside the tomb for a bit." 

The pretty female with styled black hair and a petite form responded to his command, "The guard shall accompany you." 

"No," Momonga responded with quickly, "I will go alone." 

A brow rose at his tone, but you didn't comment till he turned and glanced at you. The notion was clear. Shaking your head, you replied, "You said alone, didn't you?" 

The man stiffened, "You know that is not what I meant." 

You nodded, "I know. I, however, want to head to my room. There are a couple of things I need to take care of." 

Despite the clear reasoning, the male hesitated to leave. His hand twitched at his side while his eyes rested on you. After a moment, he sighed before turning, "[Message] if you need me." 

"Of course," you replied before he vanished in a flash. 

You were then left alone in his room with nothing but the silence and fidgeting maid to demand your attention. Your head turned to the girl. Her expression was twisted, her lips harshly pressed, and brows cringed. You could see she was conflicted by Momonga's demands as well as his absence. Sighing, you stepped closer to the girl. "Narberal," you called. 

Her expression quickly cleared as she looked towards you with glossy black eyes and a part lips. Her features were rather monochrome but still captivating. Nazarick was simply meant to be perfect. 

Your hands folded in your lap before you leaned towards the girl. "Have trust in your leader and yourself. Momonga will be fine, and you are not forsaking your duty as a battle maid by letting him go." 

Her eyes quickly widened before her lips pushed back together. Thick lashes fluttered to cover her eyes before she bent slightly at the waist. "Thank you for your kind words, my lady." 

Your attention turned towards the entrance as you began to hum. "Do you know who is attending my room?" you questioned faintly. The female looked back up at you before glancing down sternly. "Forgive me; I do not. However, I can obtain that information at once." 

You waved a hand. "That is not necessary. I was simply curious and will just have to find out in a moment." You turned to look back at the smile and politely smiled beneath the veil. "Thank you, Narberal; you are dismissed." 

The maid gave another faint bow before turning and stepping out of the room. Officially alone in Momonga's room, you sighed. "What are we going to do?" You muttered aloud before glancing down at your hand. The one ring sat comfortably upon your left gauntlet, almost like a melded addition to the metal pieces. The fourth finger down twitched before you curled into a fist. It should be bare, but you kept it there. Within a moment, your body was covered by the flash of light before you found yourself in a far different environment. 

You had [Teleported] into the center of your bedroom. A pair of grand doors laid open behind you. The intricate carvings upon the dark wood were only practically displayed while a glimpse waiting room could be seen behind. While Momonga's office was all carpet, you had designed your room with dark wood floors with various carpets laying across the landscape. Besides the doorway, there was little empty space, as luxurious rugs laid across one another. The bright colors, violent reds, bleeding blues, and mesmerizing golds, were woven into each piece. Their designs, and styles, differed from one another, leading each piece to be its own. However, many could not even be seen, as various furniture littered the room as well. 

In the bedroom, various decorations were placed on the walls alongside the floor. They filled up the ample space while still remaining tasteful as embellishments. Two swords, one blade black while the over was a hunting silver, clashed together on the wall. They were closer to the entrance but remained on the sidewall. Various tapestries hung off the walls. There were two you liked the most, and they hung in opposite corners. The closest one to yourself was a stitched image of a knight. Rich blue made up the background as it extended from its bar above to the floor. He stood to the side in a handsome suit of armor, details to the very chains. As he stood, one armored hand on his hip, and weight balanced on his back leg, his sword pointed across the room. Following the line, your eyes crossed the room to see the matching tapestry. With a rich, red background, a female hung with golden longs flowing down her turned back and a gown that ended with the tapestry. She was regal, with beautiful, false details, and fine clothes. Her body, soft in the following dress, faced the man with a flower crudely clutched in her hands. Your eyes moved between the scenes to settle in the middle. 

At the heart of the room, but off against one wall, was the master bed. It was a beautiful piece with a long, ivory bed skirt, thick, embroidered covers, and rows of upholstered pillows. Its headboard, clean, amber wood extended back against the wall before extending up as two, tall, posts. The same occurred at the end of a bed. The tall staff twisted up, with curling vines and creatures, before disappearing into the billowing mess of the canopy. The piece dipped above the bed, allowing the user to stare up into its rolling layers. It had the prettiest patterns, for, while the colors were fair, the border to the middle repeated with active creatures. Regal lions, unicorns, and dragons danced in circles above your head. On the outside, the fabric hung lightly over the border. Below it, a sheer veil wrapped around the bedside. You could see both in and out, but it stuck with the theme. Across the bed and against the opposite wall was a long vanity.

It was a little more simple in appearance with dark streaks of wood, but it was decorated with a series of silver combs, pretty makeup jars, and sparse jewelry. A tall mirror sat at its center while a plush stool was tucked before you. You idly moved towards the vanity, your reflection soon showing in before sitting down. It was surreal to stare at the image before you. 

The mirror, while clear on the surface, had a thick black rim. Vine-like appendages wrapped around themselves, and acted as the frame, before ending in spikes. The item carried a far different presence than the rest of your items in your room, but you liked it. A dark mirror for a powerful witch, correct? 

Still, with black lace around your face and iron pressing into your skin, you felt far too villainous. Sitting back, you glanced down your body. Momonga has been able to summon and remove items at will. It shouldn't be so hard for you to do the same. Your eyes slid closed, searching through your inventory. An idea came to mind. Light flooded across your body, curling around your limbs, threading between your fingers and toes, while stopping short at your neck. Your eyes opened a moment later, staring through the lace, to see the new image. A feminine gown, pure and white, hung off your form. Its lacy sleeves billowed off your shoulders and belled around your wrists. The light skirt flowed down, brushing your now bare feet. The relief flowed through you instantly. 

Your hand rose from your side, trailing over the revealed skin on your sharp collars before freezing. You couldn't see past the veil. Reaching up with the same confusion, you slowly pulled the item down. The fabric ran across your face before your vision was clear, or, rather, it was black. Tattoos, from patches of ruins to elaborate symbols to even vague creatures, were maimed into your pale flesh. No spot was left open. You found them below your eyes, on the back of your hands, between your fingers, and descending down the valley of your breasts. Marks crossed the skin of your lips and sat behind your eyelids. They were on the bottom of your feet, and down the skin of your spine. For the sake of curiosity, you even stuck out your tongue. Thankfully, the appendage was not marked. Rather, the swollen flesh was a little pale, almost like a blue, while its faintest edges, where tendons would hold, neared towards a flushed white. The bottom was darker with thick, blue, and white, branching veins, except in one area. Beneath the flat of your tongue was a black mark. It was of no shape and didn't resemble anything on your skin. Rather, it was a thick bludge that curved irregularly like that of a melted coin or ugly bruise. It was small but still a strange sight. 

You eased back in the seat and closed your mouth. Your hands dressed the same continued to trail across the markings. The fingers trailed gently, but you felt the touch so well. That, and you saw the markings twitch. The ebony lines that connected the markings all flowed in the same direction. It was not an obvious sight, but as you leaned closer, you saw the ink move like a river through rocks. However, the flow did not lead down, but up. Crawling across your skin, you found the marks lead back to one location: your eyes. 

No dark pupils, no colored iris, or white sclera could be seen. Rather, your gaze was a sinking abyss. The color, the one that stretched each corner and past the border of your eyelids, was dark. You could call it black, but, like with the markings, it descended further. Your eyes did not seem to end. You found your reflection within, but the vision was active, falling deeper and deeper into the pools. It could wrap around your body, hold you close, consume your limbs as you sank, and keep you falling. More than any water, or any ocean, it could drown you. 

You leaned back in the seat, still staring at the running features but trying to look elsewhere. Beneath the commanding markings, your face was utterly beautiful. Mature, but youthful, features blended across yourself. Your nose was long and thin, but lips full, your jaw was narrow but delicate and face soft like a turning wind. You had impressively long, near-white hair, that fell over your shoulders and flowed down your back with smooth waves. There was nothing wrong with these features, for they were the definition of beauty like any resistance painting, but those markings and eyes possessed the form. You sat and stared at the image, a woman, far from human, dressed in a lovely nightgown and sitting in a room fit for a queen. 

'Maybe Ulbert was right,' you mused quietly, 'I look like a monster pretending to be a lady.' 

Still, no despair or horror rose. Rather, you leaned close to the mirror, your chest brushing against the vanity while a hand trailed down the shape of your cheek. There were more colors hidden within the markings. You could see a few flowing, a thread of crimson and sliver of silver. More your naked nails drew over the shapes before a grin crossed your features. 'You are so beautiful,' a voice muttered as you played with the markings. Pausing, your nail tapped against the skin. Your chest drifted low to your chest. 

The tie on either side of the low collar hung uselessly. It left some fo the skin of your chest open to view, of which you did. There was one mark on your chest that was larger than the rest. It took up the right side of your skin, beginning at your color before sinking to the edge of your lower ribs. You could only see some of it but made out its main shape. In an enwrapped circle, was the long, coiled form of a serpent. Its snaked continued to roll around itself into a never ended spiral over your heart. But it did end. The head was close to your collar. Wide and broad, its eyes glared forward while spikes pressed out from the crest of its head. Within its open jaws was the end of its own tail. It consumed itself, teeth sinking it, while its head seemed to crane forward to devour the rest of its massive body. The greatest Beast would one day kill itself. 

You sat back, hand falling to your side as you stared forward. "Familiars," you muttered faintly. Every last one of them were creatures, beasts, and bosses; you had defeated and consumed. They had served as simple power-ups and easy summons in Yggdrasil, but how would they act now? 

You leaned closer to the mirror before whispering low, "What are you?" 

You received no answer, but you did hear a knock. Across the room and into the lounge, a polite address came. "Lady Ayleth," a feminine voice called. You stood from the vanity before willing a more substantial dress upon your form. A white dress, as willowy and feminine and before, appeared on your form. Only, with breastplate, more like an iron corset, appeared on your chest. It held your form straight and gave you support. Long grieves extended down your forwards, while long, iron boots covered your feet. To finish the look off, a metal-like, headpiece covered your eyes. It encircled the back of your head like a band while shielding your eyes with a round, jewel-encrusted oval. {Heavenly Madien} and armor set you had won during a dungeon raid. It was meant for female players ({Rightous Man} was the masculine copy) with either angelic racial classes or knight job class. You had no angelic classes, obviously, but had enough fighter skills and high enough karma to wear the piece. It was not nearly as advanced as other armors you owned, the hand made ones, namely, but was still good enough to keep. 

"Yes?" you answered. 

The main door then opened, revealing the form of Solution Epsilon. She had a gentle look on her beautiful face, contrary to the rest of her uniform. "Lady Ayleth," she began with a faint smile, "Lord Momonga has requested your presence in his study." 

Your brows cringed, "What for?" 

The female's eyes closed before she smiled wide. "I can not say. Lord Momonga's attention was caught by something and desires to discuss it with you." 

Puzzled at her words, you only nodded. "Alright, thank you, Solution." 

With a faint bow, she stepped out of the room as quietly as she arrived. With the grand doors shut and the room now silently, you looked down at your hand. You could see perfectly well, better than the veil, despite the obstacle upon your face. Your decorated fingers stretched out before closing back into a fist. Now that the gauntlet was off, you could clearly see your guild ring for what it was rather than another piece of armor. The large, red-toned gem rested peacefully on your skin while the band curled tightly around your left finger, your wedding finger. You sighed lightly. This may have been an inappropriate choice. 

Your eyes slid closed before you focused on what was at hand. The scene changed from that of your lavish suit to a dull study. It was still beautiful; you found glancing around. The architecture was carefully designed with clean arches around the surrounding perimeter and up into the ascending balconies. The stone floors were covered by a thin trail of navy and gold-trimmed carpet, and the room was decorated by candlelight. Despite the last, the office was not dark and moody, but perfectly bright. You couldn't place where the natural light descended from, but it must have been from the open layers above. At the heart of the long room was a narrow table. It crossed the room and sat upon the carpet with plenty of upholstered seats, on the ends, and lounges in the middle. You stared across the wooden surface to find your friend, but he did not see you. 

Before Momonga was a floating object, its back was plastered with bronze, and the material curved around to create its frame. Frowning lightly, you stepped around the table, your metal boots clicking like a heel would, before pausing at his side. His boney hands were waving lightly in the air while he leaned closer to the mirror and than back. Only, no reflection showed in its surface, but rather a vague image of forests and other areas of grasslands.   
"Why are you using this useless thing?" you questioned faintly. 

Mirror of a Remote Viewing was one of the interesting objects in Yggdrasil that sounded like an amazing tool, especially for a base, but had ended up with bugs. It was glitchy and difficult to use between the plethora of other commands that were connected to motor functions. 

"Ayleth, thank you for joining me," he addressed politely while continuing to move his hands back and forth. The blurred border of the mirror twitched faintly, maybe shifting a centimeter with his actions. So it still used motion controls, frustrating enough. The view came from far up high with a slight tilt. You could see the curves of some hills, but also another curious sight. Long, paved trails cut across the grasslands with uneven and wavy structures. Still, you leaned forward yourself. 

You waved him off with an "Of course," while your eyes studied the scene. Your lips faintly twitched down, "where is this?" 

"Far past our previous inspection, my lady," Sebas Tain answered from the opposite side of the table. He had been standing at a respectful distance from Momonga's chair with his hands clasped behind his back and expression neutral as the leader played with his toy. You nodded to the male before turning back to the mirror. "How did you find the area?" you asked over Momonga's shoulder. 

He leaned back slightly. "We're in a new territory of grassland that is not named. However, the area stretched quite far while merging with other landscapes." You nodded with him as he continued, "I wanted to see what I could find." 

Your head turned faintly to face your friend while your free locks brushed against your shoulders and back. "Did you want my help?" 

A low sound left his hollow throat, "No, I simply wanted to talk with you and show you this item. Oh," his voice faded as a sudden sound from emitted from the mirror. His hands pulled away from the item, and the previously narrow paths widened, showing the countryside that bordered a thick forest. Sebas clapped at Momonga's achievement, "Congratulations, My Lord, I knew you could do it." 

Against your best intention, your lips curled lightly into an amused grin. Momonga cough faintly before glancing to the man, "Thank you, Sebas, I appreciate your support." 

The elderly gentleman's hands fell to his side before he sternly remarked, "Of course. The sole reason I was created by Lord TouchMe was to carry out your orders, no matter how tedious they seem." 

Your head turned with a choked laugh, but it was covered by a free hand and a part of the wispy sleeve. Pausing, you looked back at the butler. "If that is so, then I do have a request for you." 

The man looked to you, "My Lady?" 

You stood up from your lean, feeling Momonga's gaze as well. "I've meant to stop in Nazarick's library. I want any books detailing information on racial classes." 

The man's head inclined. "Understood, I'll have the material brought to your room." 

You shook your head. "No, that is unnecessary. Simply inform the bookkeeper, and he can organize the material. I'll be there this evening." 

"As you say, my Lady," his head inclined. 

Momonga turned from the butler to look back at the mirror, "Right, now let's see what happening in this new world of ours." 

Your eyes turned back to the mirror as Momonga widened the scene. Soon, the dull paths expanded into open territory, a village, with a sparse build but curious activity. Your hand lowered as you leaned closer. The movement was flooding into the village from a Northern road while various forms moved quickly in its square and between houses. "A town festival?" Momonga questioned faintly. 

Sebas stepped a bit closer to the leader's right before his stern expression tensed. His voice cut in lowly, "No, certainly not." 

Momonga developed further into the scene. The vision from above quickly turned into a first-hand appearance. Violently, townsfolks dressed in simple garbs we cut down by heavily armed soldiers. Their bodies, whether they be young men, husbands, or elderly women, tumbled in the streets. Between the homes, the soldiers, raiders, raced down the paths upon horseback. Even those that ran were pierced through the back by the greater enemy. Other soldiers had stormed into the houses. They moved in groups, easily overpowering villagers in their numbers along with weaponry. You watched in one instance as a man grabbled onto the armored legs of one militant. The older man was kicked to the ground. His bruising face was pushed into the ashy dirt before a solider from behind pierced him through the spine. His blood flowed through his clothing, past his lips, and onto the dirt. Yet his eyes, a fading brown, seemed to lock with your own, or rather the mirror, as his lips moved unintelligently. Your body stiffened at the act. You glanced over to Momonga and found him to have the same posture. 

"What are your orders?" Sebas asked from the side. 

Momonga hummed faintly before sitting back in his chair, "Nothing, this doesn't concern us." 

The remark, frankly, did surprise you but also didn't bother you. Rather, your eyes turned back to the scene. The man had died, and his murders were moving into his house. Their swords and armor were stained with red, and it irritated you that the weapons were dirty. It was a waste of metal for such a pathetic display. 

Yet, besides yourself, Momonga gasped. Your head turned to your partner. His head was turned to Sebas vintage, frozen for a moment before he suddenly stood up. Your head tilted, "Momonga?" 

He ignored you, "Sebas, I am paying them a visit. Raise the Nazarick's defenses to maximum while I am away. Inform Albedo of the situation, and have her meet me there, armed for battle. Then, prepare the reserves, I want soldiers there who are skilled at stealth or illusion magic. Both need to be able to move in a moment's notice." 

The butler's head inclined. His expression had not changed between any of the events, but his tone was lighter as he spoke, "Consider it done." 

Momonga reached out, and Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown's appeared in his grip. At the sight of the weapon, your eyes widened, and a hand reached out. You gripped onto his lifted arm, demanding his attention. Quietly, he looked to you. 

"Are you sure about this?" you questioned. 

His form seemed to straighten as he regarded you. "If you intend to infer than you can remain here." 

Your lips parted in a faint gasp. 'Where had that come from?'   
Still, your fingers tightened on the cloth of his robe. "As if, let's go." 

He nodded faintly before extending the staff out. "[Gate]," he called before a void formed over the two of you. 

The magic consumed your body, and the comfortable floor beneath your feet vanished. In a moment, your boots landed on rough and rocky earth. But there were more unpleasant things than that. A young girl, enough to call a maiden, was kneeling over with her eyes pinched closed and her arms tightly curled around a younger child. Her form, bleeding from the back, cradled over the second girl. She acted as a living shield from the soldier behind her. They were only a couple man, dressed in average armor and simple swords. Yet despite their numbers and weapons, they stumbled back as Momonga and yourself stepped forward. 

Your arm had been wrapped around his own, keeping your form to his side during travel. As the two of you appeared, you stepped to the side as his arm tugged forward. That clawed hand reached out as he spoke aloud, "[Grasp heart!]" 

The raider, who had been looming over the two girls, suddenly choked before falling down. Your nostrils cringed, and lips turned. 'So they are weak,' your thoughts rang in disgust. 

You felt the girl's eyes shift up to the pair of you, but she did nothing other than let out a shaky gasp. Momonga stepped away from yourself and past the two children, to face the remaining paladin. The man was shaking in his armor and his hands, one pointing the sword out while the other clutched the shield to his side, could hardly hold the equipment. "Monsters!" his voice cried. 

Your lips turned down. 

Momonga only continued to reduce the distance between himself and cowardly humans. "What kind of man is able to cut down women and children, but is unable to face the likes of me?" his tone came out derogatory, but you knew there was little emotion for the sentence's context. His hand rose from his side, blue lightning cracking wildly as he began his second summon, "[Dragon Lightning!]" 

The militant had already begun to scream and run, and the spell built up, but his action hardly meant anything. Faster than himself, the lightening plunged forward and stuck his form. His body froze up before crumbling. 

"Pathetic," Momonga sneered, "that was only a weak, 5th tier." 

Your lips curled back into a distasteful look before your arms crossed over your chest. The sleeves fluttered down your sides, but you sent them no heed. Your gaze laid on the corpses. Those men had entered this village in the pursuit of violence. They were armed and had support in number. And yet, when an enemy arrived, they attempted to run. Your nose cringed. Disgraceful, they were pathetically weak and of no value. 

"Let's try and make an undead. [Death Knight!]" Momonga called from in front of you. A black mass formed at his side before lowering onto the corpse. It covered the knight's body before sinking past the armor. The body began to twitch and turn before rising to a hulking mass. No more was the average human but a massive, undead barbarian. 

Momonga, who had been studying the transformation, addressed the summon. "Death knight, kill anyone in the village who looks like this," he pointed a boney finger as a fallen soldier. 

The creature let out a monstrous roar before stomping off towards the village. Momonga faltered at the moment, realizing the abstraction in his life or death order. Close to yourself, another form exited the swirling gate. You recognized the clicks of the full suit of armor and turned to glance at Albedo's appearance. She was dressed from horn to toe in indigo, plated armor. Where the pieces disconnected, black cloth-covered her body in tight wrappings. A belt hung close from her hips and covered with a faint drape of a cloth garment. Within one hand was grasped an equally impressive ax. 

Her voice echoed out from behind her helm, "I apologize for my late arrival. It took longer than expected to get here. Now," her form shifted slightly to stare down at the two girls, "what am I to do to these lower life-forms." 

A brow rose at her wording, but you did not react to her words. While you despised those guards for their cowardice, you had no sentiment for the villagers. They had not expected battle and were not prepared for it. The people were still pathetically weak, but they were only responding with the just fear they felt. They were hardly to blame or punish. 

"Leave them be, they are no threat," Momonga told before gesturing to the nearby village. "The humans wearing the armor are the ones we are after." His attention shifted to the young girls. "You are wounded; drink this," he finished into the cuff of his robe before extending a minor healing potion to the eldest. 

Her expression paled as her eyes narrowed on the red vial, "Blood?" her voice choked. Pausing, she extended her own hand, "If you insist," she begun before her little sister snatched her extended arm. "No! Don't do it, Emri!" 

'Oh, boy.' 

The little girl continued to cry to her, presumed, sister, while Momonga grew silent. His jaw was faintly parted, and you could sense the confusion stemming from him. Albedo was far more active. Her broad ax flew over her head, its blade glinting in the sunlight, before she shrieked out, "How dare you insult your savior!" 

'Okay, this is getting worse!' 

You immediately stepped forward. "Albedo, lower your weapon at once!" your voice rung heavy command as you stepped beside the girls. Her form quickly eased as the weapon swung down to her side. "As you wish, my Lady," she responded calmly. 

Sighing, you bent to the girls who froze under your vintage. Maybe you should have worn the veil. "There is nothing to be frightened of," your voice rung with a faint melody to it. "This is only a healing potion; it will cause you no harm." 

The older girl stared up at you with a faint gasp. Stiffly, she twisted the vial before pouring the liquid past her lips. Light quickly formed around the wound on her back, before the injured area closed altogether. Heck, it even fixed her clothes! 

Momonga tilted his head before the girls, "I assume the pain is gone now." 

The blonde girl nodded before responding, "Yes, it is!" 

'Not like you acknowledged it before.' 

"Hmm," your head rose a hand to his jaw. "Have you ever heard of magic before." 

The girl stuttered while still holding her sister close in her lap, "Um, yes. I have a friend who trades with our village. He's a healer who practices magics." 

"Perfect," Momonga commented, seemingly pleased. "Then, it is not hard to comprehend. I am a magic-user as well." His hand extended before he chanted again, "[Anti-life Cocoon], [Protection from Arrow Fall]." 

Two intricately decorated rings stemmed from his palm. Both were green, signaling passive, defensive magics. With their casting, a blurred, green dome formed around the two girls, but Momomga was not done. "These are two protection spells; you'll be safe as long as you stay put. But, just in case," he reached into his robe again before throwing two items into the circle, "once blown, these horns will summon an army of goblins to your side to do your bidding. Do not hesitate to use them if needed." 

"It may be the difference between life or death," you added while stepping around the magic's area.

Momonga turned with you, and Albedo stepped towards his side. You were all about to head into the village, before the girl called behind, "Excuse me!" 

Sighing, your head craned back faintly. Her hands were planted on the earth with her head inclined. "Thank you for saving us; we are forgive grateful." Her little sister followed in her lead. 

Momonga replied, but very passively, "It was no problem." 

"Wait!" The elder called out again, "May I please have the name of the man who saved me?" 

Momonga's form shifted lightly. The staff twitched in his hold before his body turned, "Yes, you shall remember it well, and tell everyone of my powers. I am Ainz Ooal Gown!" 

Your head snapped to the side with his remark. Eyes wide and lips parting, you whispered his previous name. 

Walking down the beaten path, you kept your arms crossed beneath the swell of your breast, just where the armor began, with hands holding your armored elbows. It had been quiet in the last moments. The three of you had left the girls behind and continued towards the village. Still, you could hardly focus on the task at hand. Your eyes cringed closed as your gripped a bit tighter at your arms, 'Momonga, please tell me what you are doing.' 

You would have asked him, cornered him against a tree and demanded answers, if it wasn't for the looming mass behind you. Albedo had fallen behind the two of you. While Momonga, Ainz, moved swiftly and silently, you could hear her fidgeting in that suit of armor. There were little clicks and abrasions with every insecure movement. 

"Lady Ayleth," she finally spoke up. 

Without turning or stopping, you answered. "Yes?" 

The female Guardian paused before commenting strangely, "Well, you changed your armor." 

Brows cringing, you looked back at her, "Yes, I did. I own other pieces than {Iron Madien}. Is there something wrong with this?" 

Was there a weakness in this armor? Sure, it wasn't a high level, but it was more than enough for this current situation. 

The Overseer's form tensed, even beneath the armor, before she spewed out, "No! I didn't mean to insinuate that something was wrong; it is only strange to see you without the veil!" 

'Oh.' Yeah, you had worn it pretty consistently after finishing your favorite suit of armor. It had looked so pretty and enchanting on your avatar. 

"Does it matter what she wears, veil, or not?" Momonga's voice cut in besides yourself. 

Albedo's form fell a little, but she responded swiftly, "No, of course not. Lady Ayleth is very beautiful without covering." 

Your lips quirked bitterly as your strides continued to move you closer to the village. "That is the deceptive facade of a Sorceress, Albedo." 

What were faded cries a moment ago begun to ring louder before you. Your head craned up a little as you listened. They were all masculine. "We should fly over the head of the village to have a better view of its perimeter. Our view will only be obstructed from the ground." 

Momonga glanced towards you before nodding faintly. He reached out before grabbing hold of an item you recognized: a necklace with a craven gem wing. However, the second item he took surprised you. It was all full mask with a red background, wide, blue eyes, and a disturbing grin. A cliff chin protruded from the bottom of the mask while green lines decorated some of its surfaces. 

"{Mask of Envy}?" you questioned faintly. 

"After how the girls responded to me, I believe it would be better to cover my monstrous features," he informed before slipping the mask on and retrieving a set of gloves. His robe then closed as well, hiding all bone from sight. 

"Hey, if it makes you more modest," you joked faintly. 

"Lord Momonga." Albedo cried out from behind, "While your reasoning is sound, I cannot bear to hear you call yourself monstrous!" Her armored hands clutched onto the handle of her ax. "You are the most handsome man alive, more alluring than life itself!" 

Your friend choked lightly before responding, "Thank you, Albedo, but my concerns are on the matter at hand." 

Humming, you glanced towards your companion, "Should I do the same then?" 

Beneath the mask, his head tilted. You felt his eyes scan over your features before he shook his head, "No, while those symbols are strange to the eye, you still appear human enough." 

'But neither of us are human anymore,' you wanted to say. Yet you only nodded your head speaking aloud, "[Fly]." Blue light engulfed your body before Momonga followed suit. Albedo rose a moment after. Hovering above the village, you could see smokestacks billows out of the tops of houses. Those that were burning were ransacked with broken doors or items. However, there was less activity in the square than before. The surviving villagers had huddled together. Younglings hid under taller buildings while mothers clutched their children close. Their wide eyes were not on the raiders anymore, but a new threat. 

At the center, the village Momonga's Death Knight plowed through the gathered soldiers. Their iron bodies fell and dripped with blood under the sunlight. The unit was disorganized. Those that moved forward to challenge the monster were easily swatted away, or their swords, which they swung sporadically, were easily shattered by the Death Knight's powerful strike. While many men coward under the insanity of fear, some stepped forward to control the scene. But even those leaders lost their heads. The carnage only continued to bath the dusty earth red until Momonga called out, "That is enough, Death Knight!" 

His form begun to lower from its previous perch and you, and Albedo, followed. He landed gracefully with a faint flutter to his robe before addressing the now captive audience. "I am Ainz Ooal Gown; it is a pleasure to meet all of you," he introduced. 

When none of the villagers or soldiers responded, he continued, "Don't worry about my Death Knight, no harm will come to you now. Tell your supervisor, I mean owner, of my kindness." His tone changed, "However, the next time you decide to commit such heinous act in this area, I will rain death on your kingdom." 

'You don't even know where they're from,' you mentally sighed. 

The knights began to stumble back as Momonga added, "Leave! And make sure you spread my name to everyone." 

As the men ran off, a new voice spoke up. A man, older and slightly large, called from the crowd of villagers. He was on his knees, and his hands were planted on the dirt. "Excuse me, Sir, why did you come here?" His tone was surprisingly calm for the violence he just endured. 

Momonga paused before responding to the human, "I could not stand by and watch innocent people be slaughtered. Call it a moral obligation." Your eyes turned with your friend's words. You were curious but remained silent. "Please, be at ease; this village is under my protection," Momonga promised. 

Yet despite his words, the villagers tensed as he approached. You followed with him, before resting a hand on his arm. Their faces were easy to read and discomfort clear. "However, we do not give favors for free," your voice cut through the air, "in exchange for your lives, we expect to be compensated." 

"Ayleth," he hissed towards you before you gripped on his arm. 

"Watch," you whispered back. 

At your words, the villagers eased. The man's, a leader of some sort, relaxed. His shoulders, which were tense, but fell while his expression loosened. His form soon rose before he made eye contact with Momonga and then yourself, ready to do business. 

Momonga and yourself soon found yourselves in a quaint house. Albedo had waited outside the door, on guard, while the two of you entered. Seated at a table, Momonga had begun to discuss with the couple. The man who had first spoken up had turned out to be the chief of this village, and the older woman at his side was his wife. Both were eager to discuss with you, but you only found yourself more concerned as they answered. You had been idly listening, your long nail drawing shapes on the wood before you, until the conversation caught your attention. 

Momonga had pulled out a Yggdrasil coin, and the couple had no reaction to the currency. Likewise, when shown a map, Momonga and yourself learned that you were in an unfamiliar territory called the Re-Estize Kingdom. Across the local border and over a long mountain range was what was called the Baharuth Empire. The two countries were long term enemies, explaining the events of today. The final country of the region was that of the Slane Theocracy far South. 

Momonga paused as the three of you, the third being the chief, stared down at the old map. His hand rose from his side before pressing against the side of his mask. Seated beside him, you rested a hand on his stationary one. You were about to call his name before going quiet. 

"Is something bothering you?" the chief question. 

"No," Momonga replied before lowering his hand. "Is there any other information I should know?" 

"Let's see," the older human licked his lips, already dry and parted, before staring down the map. His hand trailed on the Re-Estize providence before pointing down a location. The words on the map were unintelligible to your eyes. "The closest city to our village would be the capital of E-Rantel. The road to there is safe, as adventures manage the areas, ridding it of orcs and goblins." 

Your head craned over, "Adventures?" 

The man nodded, "Yes, they are mercenaries for hire. There is an Adventures Guild in E-Rantel if you are interested." 

"And how large of a city is this, E-Rantel," Momonga questioned. 

The man pondered the question. His head tilted down while he stared down at the crinkled map. His tongue ran lightly over his lips, "I'm not sure; larger than our village." 

"Thank you," you nodded before staring down at the table. This wasn't enough information. 

"Now if you would please," the chief begun before his voice fell. His expression, which had been strong during the conversation, was falling. His eyes sagged under the weight below while dark circled formed. The brown pools dimmed as he lowered his head. "We need to bury our dead." 

His wife had stepped over to him, her wrinkled and calloused hand resting on his sinking shoulder. His own hand rose, in similar condition, to cover hers. You lowered your head, "Of course." 

Where there was life, there was also death. 

But where there was life, there was growth. 

Even after a modest funeral, the villagers had already picked themselves back up. Men, young enough for labor but old enough to marry, either carried heavy planks or worked construction tools. You could see girls, young and old, and bruised, working around a well, or continuing down paths with heavy buckets clutched in their strained arms. Momonga, Albedo, and yourself had walked down similar scenes, the air of progress floating, for a while now. A part of it was distant, and the other was sobering. 

"Today has been a success," Momonga commented suddenly, "Let's head back home." 

The three suddenly paused as another young male crossed your path. He gave a faint greeting. Albedo, who was closest to him when it ordered, did not address him. Rather, she shifted beneath her armor. Momonga noticed the change, "It appears you do not like humans very much." 

She scoffed while her armored head leaned back with her chin raising. "What is to like about them? They are weak and pathetic. They resemble nothing but insects to be crushed under boots!" her tone run with anger and loathing, but it was less of an opinion and more of state. 

The Great Tomb of Nazarick existed as one of the only heteromorph guilds in Yggdrasil. It was a requirement for members to be something other than humans. A part of this was to give sanctuary to monster class players who were mercilessly PK-ed by human-mob characters for XP or sadistic enjoyment. The other was to return the favor. As the guild was officially formed and rose to power, so did its reputation. It became a villain to non-monster and monster players, something to defeat. So, to fit with the theme, plenty of guild members had programmed their NPCs with villainous attributes, or at least the dislike of humans. That role, the undefeated villain, was fun. It gave you a sense of power and authority that you lacked otherwise. It was the one thing you could understand about Ulbert's obsessions. However, you hoped this theme wouldn't get you into trouble now. 

"That is not entirely true, Albedo," you cut in. "Even after all their losses, they rise up to rebuild. That shows strength." 

The female was quiet before speaking up, "Forgive me my Lady, but if the humans were stronger, than they wouldn't have suffered any losses. It is their own fault for being weak, for the strong will always oppress the lower." 

You frowned lightly, lips curving down, but you responded, "You're right, and there's always something stronger." 

Momonga glanced towards you with your words before pausing. He sighed before muttering bitterly, "The problems just keep stacking up." 

His attention had been caught by something on the side, the chief muttering with a younger male. You sighed as well before following the male. "Is there something the matter?" he called out. 

The older male turned around, glancing at Momonga with sweat on his brow, "Lord Ainz, thank goodness, I was just told that more soldiers are heading towards the village this instance." 

'Of course,' you sighed. 

"Oh, is that so," Momonga muttered before pausing. His head rose a moment after. "Don't worry. Gather the surviving villagers at your house. When you're done, meet me at the town's square." 

The chief inclined his head while he responded in a far more hopeful tone, "Yes, of course." 

Gazef Stronoff's back ached as he rode upon his horse. The sun had only grown stronger in its torture, leaking all of the strength from his body. His thighs had kept their grip on his grappling steed, but an ache had long since set in. But there was greater exhaustion resting on him. Throughout the day, his men and himself had moved from one village to the next. Each, destroyed with the same worn sights. Houses were burned, establishments robbed, and people maimed or dead. Gazef was a strong man, it was the only reason for his position, but seeing so many men cut down, woman bruised and bleeding, and children crying left him weak. With each village he entered, his stomach only continued to sink till it was nothing but a vast hole down his torso. They were never close enough, or fast enough, to prevent the damage, nor to capture the perpetrators. He had prepared himself for the same sight when he noticed residual smoke in the air. His tanned hands gripped tighter on the reins before him, and he urged his remaining men to move faster. However, as he narrowed that distance, his stern features begun to fall, and his heart rise. 

This village, small and damaged like the rest, was still standing. And at its front, were four figures. The one on the rightmost side appeared to be a townsman. As normal and bland as they come, the older male stood at an average height but with a heavy build. Pale clothes, a hat upon his balding head and top and bottoms, dressed his figure while also clarifying his class. Yet the other three were beyond strange. 

Two of the three were women. The most expensive and dramatic armor he had ever seen covered one of the farthest left. Dark plates covered her body while horns, a part of her angled helm, covered her head. One hand hung at her side while the other casually grasped the hilt of a massive ax. Armor, more expensive than any of his own, did not belong in a place like this. Nor did the other, as the second woman took his breath away. 

She was more exposed than the first and far more feminine. Long waves of the purest blonde hair fell from her head while strong but delicate features crafted her face. Her body, mature and womanly, was dressed in a flowing but also with armor. Silver vambraces were clasped onto either forearm and full greaves onto her legs. Upon her torso, plackart held her form while its metal gleamed in the light. Yet her dress was not the strangest thing. While she was undoubtedly a beautiful woman, she was almost incredibly ominous. Every exposed inch of her skin, from her, clasped hands to the soft neckline of her dress; she was covered by dark markings. The vague symbols put him on edge and caused his stomach to turn. Her companion caused him true worry.

Besides, the woman stood a man. He was quite tall with wide shoulders that were only exemplified by the odd, bone-like pauldrons he wore. The top of his head was covered by a dark cloth that matched the long, dark robe he wore. The garment was no doubt expensive, yes, and was again unusual for the location, but it was his face that disturbed Gazef. The man did not meet his eyes but covered his with a fiendish mask. 

That haunting smile only seemed to grow wider as Gazef approached. As he entered the village's territory, he pulled his steed to a halt before the individuals. "I am the chief royal warrior from the Re-Estize Kingdom, Gazef Stronoff. The king has sent me to hunt down the knights who have been attacking local villages. Be at ease; you are safe now. We will do everything in our power to protect you." 

The man, dressed in the simplest of clothes, responded, "Thank you, general Gazef." 

Gazef's brows cringed as he looked to the man, "Are you the chief of this village. Who are these people besides you?" 

The chief began to step forward and gestured to the dark man in the middle, "This man saved-" Yet he was cut off. 

The masked man stepped forward, his voice cutting through as he addressed the warrior. "No need to worry about that now. I am Ainz Ooal Gown. It is a pleasure to meet you, general." 

The warrior's eyes wandered to the side, glancing at the female beside the strange male. "And you are?" 

The woman simply smiled with coy lips before speaking with a voice like velvet. "You only need to know his name to know mine." 

The vague response rung in the warrior's ears while his skin vibrated with it. He could not see much of her face, especially her eyes. Yet, beneath that mask of iron, he could feel their heat. It made his skin hot to the touch. The man in the middle broke the trance. 

"I am a simple magic-user who stumbled upon this village while those knights were attacking it," the man finished. 

Gazef's dark eyes widened. One man and two women had stopped an onslaught his men and self couldn't solve in a day? The warrior slid from his horse's side, bringing his form to stand with a faint thud. Weight flooded back into his legs while his feet protested with aches. Still, he kept his expression neutral. "Without you, this village would have been lost," 'Just like the rest' "Thank you." 'These families will be safe tonight.' 

It was as if his words were a mocking for an armored man, one as exhausted and sunburnt as himself, stepped up to Gazef's side. "Sir, we've spotted a large unknown army surrounding the village as we speak." 

Gazef's eyes widened before narrowing. So help him, by the higher power of The One, he would not see this village burn.


End file.
